


Not Giving In

by hippocrates460



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Even educated flees ship it, M/M, PTSD mentions, Snape and Harry: Dad edition, Teddy ships it, The house-elves ship it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-07-03 18:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocrates460/pseuds/hippocrates460
Summary: Harry comes back from his holiday to a stack of memos on his desk that all say the same thing: "Severus Snape adopted Teddy Lupin."Snape. No one has seen him since the war trials ended, no one knows where he lives, no one knows why he took Teddy. And what happened to Andromeda? Harry is determined to be a good godfather and sort it all out. Even if it means dealing with Snape.Title from Better Son/Daughter, because Nanette.





	1. Spinner's End

**Author's Note:**

> The PTSD is hard to write, please let me know if you have any suggestions or if something doesn't ring true! I'm not sure how long this fic will end up being, so the chapter count is an estimate.  
> As always: Thank you for reading :)

It takes Harry almost a full week. He’s absolutely sure that without his skills and experience in finding people, navigating bad neighbourhoods, and defeating dusty archives, he’d have taken years. Snape is well-hidden. Has been, since the trials after the war ended. Harry had gotten him off without punishment, but Snape never so much as thanked him for it. Not that that’s what he did it for – of course not.

He rings the doorbell, one hand on his wand, fully prepared to take a good old hexing for breaking wards or simply existing. The door opens instead to a haggard looking Snape. It’s almost comforting how familiar the sight is, firm sneer, lank hair, long black robes.

“If you wake him I will kill you,” Snape hisses, and Harry looks at his watch. Ten at night, alright, so he shouldn’t have showed up this late. He just didn’t want to leave it to the next morning.

“Good evening, professor Snape,” he says kindly. “I was wondering if I could come in?”

Snape rolls his eyes but steps aside. As Harry walks in he smells the familiar smell of long-term poverty. It makes sense, considering that the address is still listed under Prince-Snape, three adults, at the Ministry, but it provides uncomfortable flashbacks to the memories Harry has of a younger Snape. No wonder that all of Snape's professional information has no links to where he lives.

Harry walks into the small corridor, crammed full of coats and boots, using his well-worn senses to take in as much as he can without looking like he’s prying. The door to the living room is open. It looks clean, but it smells of dust and that sour smell of not being able to afford cleaning detergents. There are books absolutely everywhere, and they are clearly loved better than the furniture.

“This’ll take a while,” Harry tells Snape, turning to look at him. “We could sit down and have some tea.”

Snape huffs and walks to the kitchen, past the stairs going up to the second floor. The kitchen has a small table with three chairs, and is mostly occupied by a brewing station. The door to the yard is open, it’s a mild night, and Harry can see through the window the privy outside. There are two toothbrushes next to the sink. Harry takes a seat, slowly, keeping an eye on Snape, selecting the one by the wall when the other chair makes him twitch as Harry touches it. Snape gets the kettle going and sets up a chipped pot and two mismatched mugs on the table. The tension is so high that Harry has to stop himself from responding to the sound it makes. He fills the pot with water when it boils, then adds a bag of Stockwell’s. The smell evokes such specific childhood memories for Harry that he can’t breathe for a second. The office of the head teacher, the screaming children that are allowed to play outside while Harry is scolded for yet another thing that he didn’t mean to do.

“Not what you’re used to,” Snape smirks. It’s not a question, it’s a confirmation. It’s true, Harry has fancy loose leaf tea these days, that he drinks in the beautiful airy rooms of a renovated Grimmauld Place. He doesn’t even make it himself, he has three house-elves (that he _pays_ , thank you).

“Let me get to the point,” Harry takes a sip of the tea, it’s bitter and flat. “I was informed that you have adopted my godson.”

“Your godson?” Snape’s nose wrinkles, his lips thin. “The paperwork said no next of kin besides a grandmother at St. Mungos, who I’ve heard is wasting away fast.”

“Andromeda,” Harry nods. “No one knows if she’s going to wake up. She hadn’t updated her paperwork since her husband died.”

“And you?”

“Remus and Tonks must have never filed for it,” Harry sighs. “It’s not uncommon, for it to take a while, and I doubt they were planning on both dying while Teddy was so young.”

“So here we are,” Snape summarizes, “an unofficial godfather, an unconscious grandmother, and two dead parents.”

“And a father,” Harry adds gently. _That_ paperwork had been filed correctly. “How did you decide to adopt him?”

Snape laughs, it’s a harsh and ugly sound, “that’s none of your business, Potter, we’ve just established that you have no claim over him.”

Harry nods, then fishes out his badge from his pocket. “I’m not here on official business, but I could come back during office hours and ask then, if you’d prefer.”

“Magical Child Services,” Snape reads out, “the _head_ , even. Did they make up a job for you so you could feel important?”

Harry bites his tongue, he knew this would happen, “I went to university for four years to become a social worker, then started the department after lobbying for it to be created all through my studies.”

“Our saviour,” Snape mocks. Harry takes another sip of cardboard tea in an effort to calm himself down. If he punches Snape he’ll never see Teddy again.

“I’m here to propose sharing custody,” Harry gets back to what he wanted to say, what he’s been rehearsing for a week.

“Should’ve come to the orphanage if you wanted him, Potter.”

Harry swallows. “I was in – I was on holiday. I was not informed of the situation until I came back. I would have, had I known.”

“You’re not taking him Potter,” Snape leans back, crosses his arms. Looking so smug that Harry wants to scream.

“I don’t want to take him.” Harry tries to keep his voice calm, to explain. “I want to share custody, bring him up together.”

“If you think for one second that I will be sending a child back and forth after he’s lost all his family, you’re insane,” Snape intones, slowly, as if he truly believes Harry is mad. He has a point though, one that Harry had considered already.

“Professor,” he keeps his voice down. Low energy, politeness, as he was taught, “I am offering for you both to move in with me.”

Snape’s eyes flare, he draws his robes around himself tighter, sits up straight. _Threatened._ “I do not need, and have never needed, the charity of Potters!”

Harry knows not to bring up Snape’s living conditions, but he’s itching to throw it all at him. Instead he goes with flattery.

“I know you are the only one that could help figure out a way to keep Teddy safe during his transitions,” Snape narrows his eyes at Harry. “I have a lab, I have the room Remus used when he was staying in London. I’m not offering charity, I’m offering _help_. I want to work together.”

Snape twitches in his seat, looks at something from the corner of his eyes, then back at Harry. But it’s too late, Harry sees the stack of letters Snape glanced at. _Cokesworth Development_. Snape saw him look at them.

“They’re not offering enough, are they?” He says, his voice soft. It’s the worst thing he could’ve done and it sends Snape shooting out of his seat, flapping like a deranged bird in his long dramatic robes.

“I don’t need _pity_ , look at my fridge! Look at my accounts! I can afford a child!” His eyes flash dangerously as he paces through the small kitchen, motioning wildly with his arms. “You don’t – couldn’t possibly understand. I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Professor,” Harry leans back against the wall, and Snape rounds in on him.

“You can’t waltz in here threatening to take _my_ child away because you’re rich! Because you’re a _Potter_! Get out!”

He pauses to breathe and they both hear the crying at the same time. Long, drawn wails, and hiccoughs in between. Harry stands up automatically and opens the kitchen door. Teddy is standing at the top of the stairs, wearing nice, clean, clearly new pyjamas. He looks miserable, but also healthy and safe. When Teddy sees Harry, he runs down the stairs and leaps into his arms. Sobs into his shoulder. Harry holds him tight and moves little circles with him, humming about _hello little one_ and _you’re alright_ and _I’m so sorry we woke you up_.

“Harry,” Teddy gasps finally, face still red, breathing still rapid. “Why are you here?”

“I came to talk to your,” Harry turns around and looks at Snape, “daddy.”

“Papa,” Snape corrects, looking entirely defeated.

“Your papa,” Harry says to Teddy. “We were not friends before, but when we are done fighting I am sure we will be and then you and I will see each other more often.”

Teddy nods, smearing snot against Harry’s shoulder. “You’ll take me to the zoo again.”

“I will,” Harry laughs, “I promised I would. Do you have any nice books here?”

“I do!” Teddy’s eyes light up at the mention, even if his face is still wet and blotchy. “One about dinosaurs! They’re like dragons but they lived super long ago!”

Harry looks over Teddy at Snape, and smiles at him. “How about your papa puts you back to bed with a story about dinosaurs?”

“No more yelling?” Teddy asks.

“No more yelling,” Harry promises, handing Teddy over to Snape. Snape groans as he takes the boy, and Teddy giggles.

“You’re so heavy,” Snape complains. “Am not!” Teddy laughs. It’s clearly a well-worn routine even after only two weeks and it makes Harry take a deep steadying breath. Teddy needs them both to be in his life.

Harry goes back to the kitchen and puts the kettle back on. It takes less than twenty minutes for Snape to join him again.

“Asleep?”

“Out like a light,” Snape sighs, “if only it were always that easy.” He seems to remember who he’s complaining to, and draws his mouth into a tight line again, sitting down with his tea.

“I babysit Weasleys sometimes,” Harry tells him, “they’re at their worst when they’re keeping each other awake.”

“At least they’re not sneaking around castles invisibly,” Snape tells his mug, and Harry can’t help but laugh. It takes Snape a second, but he does seem to realize eventually that he isn’t being laughed at.

“Professor Snape,” Harry tried again, but he stops when Snape holds up his hand.

“Just Snape will do.”

“Snape,” Harry corrects himself, “please just – please.”

Snape leans back, clearly exhausted.

“Tell me what you’re worried about, I’ll help in any way I can. I’ve fixed up the house, it looks completely different, you can have a whole floor if you want – ”

“Don’t presume to know my concerns,” Snape stops him, a strange look on his face. “Come back tomorrow at nine.”

Harry nods eagerly, already planning the owl he’ll send to his boss to ask for a few days off. It’s not like he doesn’t have a dozen or so saved.

“We’ll split costs for him equally. Don’t spoil him, don’t bankrupt me by buying him anything expensive.”

Harry nods again, that’s nothing he wouldn’t have expected.

“Now get the fuck out of my house, Potter.”

“Thank you,” Harry says, getting up, pushing the chair back in. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He walks out by himself, closing the front door behind him when he realizes Snape didn’t follow him.


	2. Grimmauld Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me what you’re worried about, I’ll help in any way I can. I’ve fixed up the house, it looks completely different, you can have a whole floor if you want – ”
> 
> “Don’t presume to know my concerns,” Snape stops him, a strange look on his face. “Come back tomorrow at nine.”

The next day when Harry arrives at five to nine with coffee and pastries and something pink and sugary for Teddy, the front door is open already. Outside on the pavement stands a big truck, and movers are carrying boxes in and out.

“How’d you do all this?” Harry asks, as he hands Snape his coffee. He looks like he needs it, bags under his eyes, more sallow and greasy-looking then yesterday.

“The company that’s buying the house offered to pay for my moving fees months ago, I called them at seven and these guys showed up ten minutes later.”

Harry snorts, “probably had the truck idling around the corner for weeks.”

Snape arches an eyebrow at him, as if he can’t believe that Harry would be capable of joking. About cars, too. He accepts a pastry with grace.

“Edward!” He shouts up the stairs, “come down for a minute please!”

Teddy comes barrelling down, still holding two books in each hand. “Harry!”

“Hi,” Harry laughs, “sit down, I brought food, and some kind of juice.”

Snape ends up instructing the movers on how to drive to Grimmauld Place, Harry repeats the address for them so they can actually see it, and Snape gives him another strange look.

“It’s still under Fidelius?”

“Oh, yes.” Harry looks around for Teddy, pulls him closer so he can hear too. “I was harassed by reporters so much that when we redid all the wards we added a Fidelius. Grimmauld Place 12 is my home.”

Snape nods, but his jaw is tight. “I’ll have to ask you for permission every time I wish to have someone over.”

Harry honestly hadn’t thought about that, and closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of the ties of blood and magic. He holds his wand in his hand and looks Severus in the eye as he says: “Grimmauld Place 12 is our home.”

Severus shivers as the spell takes hold, then he blushes a little pink and stalks off to hurl abuse at movers that aren’t being careful with his books. He doesn’t seem to care at all that the Muggles are seeing him in long black robes and it makes Harry want to find out what he’d look like without them.

Harry goes outside to tell the movers he’ll go on to London now to make sure he’s there by the time they get there, then pops back in to tell Severus and Teddy. He Apparates out from Teddy’s bedroom, onto the doorstep in front of Grimmauld Place. Inside he decides Teddy can have the small bedroom on the third floor, where Harry uses the big bedroom. They’ll share a bathroom. Snape can have the second floor, which is right above the library and set up to have a big study and a bedroom, as well as a bathroom. He asks Noddy to change the sheets for both rooms, and Dolly to prepare for lunch for three people.

Then he Floos over to Hermione’s office, where he talks to her through the fire about everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, until he hears the doorbell ring.

“Tell Ron!” He shouts into the fire as he’s pulling his head out. He straightens his clothes and rushes to open the door. Albert is staring at the door when Harry steps into the hallway.

“Curious?” Harry asks mildly, and Albert grins at him. He’s the youngest of Harry’s elves and the one that adapted fastest to what Harry wants from the elves that work for him. “Very,” he nods.

Harry opens the door with flair to let a scowling Snape and a very eager Teddy in. Teddy has been to the house before, and greets Albert happily, babbling about something as they both go downstairs to the kitchen. Snape stands in the hallway, clearly trying to take in everything that’s changed since he was last here.

“You have a house-elf,” is what he settles on.

“Three,” Harry corrects, absurdly aware of his wealth once again. “Noddy and Albert came to me with some other elves after the war asking for work and shelter while Hogwarts was still in ruins and their families were in Azkaban.”

“The third?”

“Noddy showed up with her one day, asking if she could stay,” Harry shrugs, he’s given up on trying to understand house-elf family dynamics. “Her name is Dolly.”

Snape shakes his head, resigned to his fate. “Which room?”

“The second floor,” Harry motions up, “lunch will be ready soon, I’m sure Teddy is bothering Dolly about it already, feel free to join us downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll go deal with the movers.”

Without another word, Snape leaves, robes flaring out as he rushes up the stairs. He takes them two at a time and Harry catches sight of a strip of pale ankle between his boots and trousers. It does _things_ to his stomach, and he sighs as he pushes it down.

 

Harry decides they should take the first week to settle in and sort things out, getting himself registered as Teddy’s godfather finally, finding him a school, buying Snape ingredients for the lab in a way that they can both pretend it wasn’t extremely expensive. Snape spends most of the time avoiding him, and continues handling bedtime. Harry takes Teddy out to the park every day, and they have dinner together. It’s fragile, but it works. Most of the time.

 

They have their first shouting match the second night. Snape has been irritated and twitchy all day, and as soon as Teddy has been tucked in, Harry drags him to the library and sets up Silencing Charms.

“What is wrong?” He asks, trying to keep his voice calm and friendly. Calm and friendly does not mean anything to Snape, who puffs up.

“What are you insinuating?” His eyes are squinty and his shoulder jerks nervously and Harry wonders for a second if he’s itching or in pain.

With a deep sigh for keeping his composure and a slow but deliberate move towards the armchair by the fire, Harry tries to keep the atmosphere comfortable. “I’m asking if you’re alright, you seemed uncomfortable today.”

Snape’s face blanks for a second, like he can’t remember what he spent the day doing, before the sneer is back. “I slept poorly. Are we done?”

“I won’t keep you here,” Harry shrugs and stops himself from waving at the door. He doesn’t want Snape to feel like he’s at his beck and call.

Snape’s jaw tightens, and he turns around to leave, probably in some dramatic and dashing way, but ends up bumping into the stool that was right next to him. Harry winces in sympathy but Snape reacts like he’s been punched. His hand flies to his neck and grips it so tight he’ll probably bruise. Harry is by his side in a flash, stopping himself from touching just at the last moment.

“Let me help,” he begs, and Snape turns around, robes whirling.

“I don’t want your help!” He shouts, face contorted, hair wild. “You don’t know me, you know nothing about me! Let me be!”

Harry is extremely done and fails spectacularly to keep his voice down. “Well clearly you need me!” He is tired and offended and wants Snape to relax already. As soon as he says it he knows he lost, and Snape knows it too.

“If you’ve got it all worked out, little Potter, why don’t you tell me?” His voice is dangerously low know and it makes Harry even angrier. Why can’t Snape talk things over like an adult? Why does he think Harry is trying to attack him at every turn?

“I don’t know what you need,” Harry whispers after willing himself to breathe slowly, forcing himself not to recoil, “that’s why I asked.”

“You can’t just,” Snape’s voice is up again, they’re of height now and facing each other on the carpet in front of the fire. Harry can see Snape’s eyes better than ever before, reflecting the flames. “You can’t just – barge into my life, demand my presence in your library, in your fancy house, demand I give you what I need! So you can have a go at playing the Saviour again! I don’t owe you _anything_.”

“I’m not demanding!” Harry shouts back, stomps his feet angrily at losing his composure. “You don’t owe me SHIT. I just want you to be well!”

“WHY?” Snape bellows back, and he really does look insane now.

Harry doesn’t know. It’s probably his saviour complex. At least partially pity. Some part of him just really – _really_ wants the Half-Blood Prince to like him. It pisses him off that he can’t even sort his own feelings so he goes with the first thought he can verbalize: “Because I care ABOUT YOU!”

He didn’t mean to make that admission and runs from it. Out the library, up the stairs, to his bedroom. In the armchair in front of his fireplace he covers his face, pulls up his legs, and lets himself cry. A week of looking for Teddy, days in Snape’s presence, just when he was looking forward to getting back to work after his first holiday in years. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

That night, as every other night, Harry hears Snape stalk the hallways, up the stairs to the top, down floor-by-floor, like he’s looking for students out after curfew. He can picture what Snape’s flapping robes must look like perfectly, can tell from the creaking of the floors when Snape pauses to look out a window or at a painting. He wants to – help. He wants to be there for Snape. Help him prepare his potions for his customers, help him with money. He wants his presence to be welcome and to be comforting and Snape’s right. He can’t stand it that someone could just... not like him.

 

It’s the first full moon after only four days of Snape and Teddy living at Grimmauld Place. Harry is pacing the living room while Snape is pretending to read a book that he hasn’t turned a page in since he sat down until they hear a growl and wail. They weren’t sure it’d happen tonight, no one knows how often half-Werewolves change when they’re children, according to the books Snape has been reading. Hadn’t wanted to disturb Teddy’s fragile new rhythm if he wasn’t going to be changing. They both run up the stairs, Snape in the form of a sleek and beautiful black panther. Harry isn’t stupid enough to try and navigate with his antlers. He changes and closes the door behind himself as soon as he can, and only then turns to look at Teddy, who has managed to tear apart the whole bed. There are feathers and scraps of fabric everywhere. Himself is whining into Snape’s fur on top of the ruined mattress, while Snape is looking at Harry and nuzzling the cub. Poor Teddy looks at Harry and whimpers, licks his paws and tail. They're probably hurting. Harry steps closer and leans down to touch noses with him, then settles down on the carpet in front of the bed. Snape curls around Teddy on the bed and tries to get him to settle down too, then lifts an eyebrow at Harry. The bastard can communicate with an eyebrow as clearly when he’s a panther as he can as a human. _You can go now_. Harry shakes no, and lets his head rest on the floor. He can’t wait until antler season is over, they’re stupidly heavy.

 

The next morning they wake up after a long night of trying to keep Teddy comfortable and asleep as much as possible. Teddy looks around with bright eyes and a wobbly lip and Harry changes back immediately, wrapping him up in his arms. He whispers at him about it not being his fault and everything is alright until Teddy’s calmed down. He hears Snape change behind him and feels him sit down on the floor with them.

“Do you know what happened?” Snape asks, uncharacteristically gently.

Teddy shakes no.

“Did Andromeda ever tell you about your da being a Werewolf?” Harry asks.

“Grandma?” Teddy waits for Harry and Snape to nod before putting on his thinking face. “I don’t remember,” he whispers finally.

Snape leans back against the bed with a sigh. “I’m a little upset at your grandmother,” he explains when Teddy looks at him. “You are a Werewolf, like your father.”

“That means you become a wolf three nights a month, when the moon is full,” Harry adds when Teddy looks confused.

“Is that what happened last night?” Teddy swallows as he looks around, “and when Grandma got hurt?”

Snape nods, his face looks as if he himself is in pain, “it seems that when you started doing accidental magic you started changing every month. You hurt your grandmother when you were a wolf, but you don’t remember and cannot control it. It is not your fault.”

“Did I hurt you?” Teddy asks, lip wobbling again, and Harry pulls him in in closer.

“No,” Snape says, “Harry and I can become animals when we want to with our magic. You won’t hurt us.” Harry blinks a little at hearing his first name, but he knows Snape is only doing it for Teddy’s benefit. With his head on Teddy’s head and Snape right there, the urge to yell at him fades for the first time. Maybe the trick to dealing with Snape isn’t to be likeable, maybe he just has to aggressively like Snape for who he is instead. 


	3. St. Mungo's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“Do you know what happened?” Snape asks, uncharacteristically gently.
> 
> Teddy shakes no.
> 
> “Did Andromeda ever tell you about your da being a Werewolf?” Harry asks.
> 
> “Grandma?” Teddy waits for Harry and Snape to nod before putting on his thinking face. “I don’t remember,” he whispers finally.
> 
> Snape leans back against the bed with a sigh. “I’m a little upset at your grandmother,” he explains when Teddy looks at him. “You are a Werewolf, like your father.”
> 
> “That means you become a wolf three nights a month, when the moon is full,” Harry adds when Teddy looks confused."

“Snape,” Harry nods to the stairs to the basement when Teddy has finally fallen asleep on the sofa. He’s been whining and tired all day, asking about his grandmother, about Werewolves, his parents. Snape spent most of the morning brewing so it fell to Harry to answer the questions.

“What?” Snape hisses when they’re out of Teddy’s earshot. Harry turns to the stove to set the kettle boiling and prepares a tea tray for them.

“I’m worried about him,” Harry says finally, when they’re sitting down and inhaling the heavy Ceylon tea. “A lot of changes are happening, and it’d be easy for him to feel out of control.”

Snape nods, stares at his tea.

“I think we should take him to see Andromeda.” That earns him a look. “The Healer I talked to said she’s able to receive visitors but hasn’t woken up yet.”

“The scars?”

“On her torso, he won’t have to see them.”

“We can go this afternoon,” Snape decides. Harry looks at him and tries to contain the expression on his face, but ends up grinning anyway. He _is_ glad that Snape wants to go, that they’re on the same page. Snape just huffs and glides off, taking an extra biscuit from the tray on his way out of the kitchen.

 

They go see Andromeda at St. Mungo’s for an hour before dinner. The Healer that is with them manages to explain to Teddy that her body needs the sleep to heal and that his grandmother would probably appreciate it if he could hold her hand and talk to her. She looks pale but otherwise normal, and Harry lifts Teddy onto the bed so he can see for himself.

Snape goes on a tour of the hospital, probably to find people to yell at, when Teddy is deep into a one-sided conversation with his grandmother about his new bedroom.

“Harry?” He asks, “what else should I say?”

“I think you’re doing very well telling her about Grimmauld Place. Why don’t you tell her about your favourite books?” He ruffles Teddy’s hair and gets a wobbly lip in return. Oh no, not again.

“You’re doing so well,” he tells Teddy, wrapping him up in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. You’re so brave.”

Teddy leans back, a glare in his wide-open eyes, tears streaming down his face. “How dare you!” He sounds so much like Snape that Harry has to bite down on his tongue to make the appropriate facial expression.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not a – a Gryffindor!” Teddy is outraged, and Harry tries really, really hard not to laugh.

“Would that be so terrible? I’d love you still.”

Teddy gives him a look tells him exactly how much he doesn’t understand. “What about gramma and papa?”

Of course, Snape chooses that moment to walk in, so Harry makes an arm movement his way. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask me what?” Snape stops by the bed and his robes flare around him dramatically before settling.

“Would you still love me if I got sorted into Gryffindor?” Teddy asks, a frown on his face. His cheeks still wet.

“Naturally,” Snape drawls, and both Harry and Teddy sigh in relief. He shoots them an amused look. “Irritating people exist in all houses, as do perfectly lovely people. Gryffindors are merely more likely to be irritating. And even when you’re irritating, I love you.”

Teddy blinks and his eyes fill with tears again, before he turns to Harry. “What about you?”

“Nothing about you could make me love you less,” Harry tells him seriously. Kisses his forehead.  “Now why don’t you tell your grandmother about your dinosaur book.”

Teddy nods, still sad, but gets distracted easily enough. He tires fast though, and ends up falling asleep on the cover while Harry and Snape talk to various healers.

 

“Who brought her in?” Snape asks, when he’s carrying Teddy down the hall on the way to the Floo area.

“A neighbour called the Aurors, Teddy was asleep when they arrived but had already changed back. I’m not sure what happened after that.”

“They took him to the orphanage and the orphanage contacted me with a request for Wolfsbane. I took him in instead and told them exactly why they shouldn't ever give Wolfsbane to children. I’m not sure why they let me, considering Andromeda is alive.”

Harry looks at Teddy and finds him still asleep and drooling on Severus’ robes. “She failed to report him as a Werewolf, failed to take precautions, and might never wake up. With the mess the Ministry was in when his parents died, I doubt she was ever even officially his guardian.”

“What if she wakes up?”

“We can cross that bridge when we get there, but we’re his parents now. I wouldn’t be averse to her moving in too.”

Snape nods and covers Teddy’s head protectively before stepping through the Floo.

 

That night, Snape puts Teddy to bed in one of the larger guest bedrooms, the one Remus used to use. Everything is still shimmering with protective spells and there is enough space for a fully-grown stag and panther. Teddy is happy to keep his own room in good order and excited about the sleep-over, which is better than they’d expected considering the mood he’s been in. Harry sits in a chair in front of the fire while Snape reads to Teddy in a low voice. When Teddy has finally fallen asleep, Snape joins Harry, long robes rustling.

“Why aren’t there more children that are Werewolves?” Harry asks, as he pours himself a whiskey and offers Snape one too. Snape accepts with a nod.

“Pregnancy and the change don’t go well together.”

“So between stigma, secrecy, and miscarriages...”

Snape nods. “I haven’t found a single account of a child that people wanted to help. It might have happened in the more established packs, but those have not been around in the UK for a long time.”

“We should contact American packs,” Harry muses. To his surprise Snape nods in agreement.

“Not everything you say is stupid, Potter,” he says, a twitch of his lip the only indication that he doesn’t mean it to be an insult. “Although I’m somewhat glad you seem to be as surprised as I am at you fulfilling your monthly intelligent comments quota.”

Harry laughs, then claps a hand over his mouth as he realizes that Teddy is asleep and should stay that way. Snape lets his eyes travel up and down Harry’s body, and relaxes back into the chair when he seems to be convinced Harry isn’t laughing at him.

“I gave him a Sleeping Draught, one that works for children.” Snape tells the fire, and Harry is so grateful he doesn’t have to go through this alone. Even if it is Snape, even if he had been prepared to fight Snape for custody if he hadn’t agreed to move in to Grimmauld Place.

“Snape...” He starts, but he gets cut off with a sharp motion of Snape’s hand.

“Shut up, Potter.”

 

They’re quiet until Teddy changes again and Harry entertains himself by staring at Snape’s profile in the flickering light of the fire. It’s – impressive. Everything about him is, really. But especially his nose. And his hands. And probably also his long legs. He’s grateful when Teddy finally wakes up, crying and whining, to have relief from what felt like a mounting tension. There isn’t as much fighting or growling as they heard last night, though it’s hard to say if it’s because Snape leaps over and onto the bed in a millisecond and Harry fits on this bed with both of them, or if the potion did its job. Teddy still cries and howls but finds comfort by burying into the covers and both of them. Whatever it was, they all manage to sleep through the night. The house-elves are happily surprised at the lack of wreckage in the morning.

 

Teddy is tired and whiny throughout the day again, but less so than the day before. A trip to the park ends in tears, but he works on a drawing for Andromeda for hours, quiet and engaged. They repeat the process of sitting in front of the fire with a drink while waiting for the change to begin that night.

“I’m back to work on Monday,” Harry starts when they’re both settled in. Snape says nothing for a long time.

“If...” he starts finally. “If you would take him to school in the morning, I could pick him up and keep him occupied until you’re done working. Barring some more complicated brewing projects, that should give both of us enough time to work every day.”

Harry nods, a little surprised at the civilized conversation they’re having. “I would like to take him to the Burrow on Sundays.”

“If it suits you,” Snape purses his lips as if he’s unsure that Harry won’t deny him what he’s about to ask for. “Perhaps I could have Friday nights. To... for myself.”

It’s a surprising request, but hardly a big deal, so Harry nods. “What about full moon?”

“I’ll be here,” black eyes pin Harry in place and Harry nods. He knows Snape wouldn’t leave Teddy alone during a full moon.

“I meant in terms of work and school.”

“We’ll have to see how he copes. I will plan my brewing so I can – ”

He’s gone in a flash before Harry has even heard Teddy stir, but Harry shifts regardless. This time Teddy barely wakes up, and falls back asleep easily. Harry wakes up the next morning with Snape stretched out on his back, every inch the lethal murder cat, and Teddy in his pyjamas sprawled out between them.

He makes sure there’s a big breakfast waiting for them by the time they make it downstairs.

 

Harry tries to be friendly, tries to include Snape in plans, invite people over for dinner, join him in the library or sitting room at night with a book or a drink, and none of it seems to help. He counts it as a win the first time Snape doesn’t even look up when Harry joins him after checking up on Teddy, with yet another book on Werewolves, in front of the crackling fire in the library. Just as he’s ruminating on how sad it is to be happy about not getting a malicious stare, Snape slams his book down on the table and he turns to the noise without meaning to. Snape seems surprised too.

“Do you want a drink?” Harry gets up and walks over to where they keep the whiskey.

“No.”

Trying to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Harry just focuses on the drink. When he sits down again he realizes Snape hasn’t picked anything back up.

“Any interesting conclusions?” He asks, knowing he’ll probably be ignored again.

“Not about Werewolves,” Snape answers, and Harry checks out the title of the book. It’s not in English.

“Hebrew.” Snaps says.

Before he can stop himself, Harry does roll his eyes. “Would it kill you to speak in complete sentences to me?”

Wrong thing to say. Snape’s nostrils flare, his black eyes pin Harry in place and he flaps his hand. “Oh no, poor little Potter, locked up with the evil bat!”

“Don’t – I don’t. Don’t say that.”

“Would it kill you to speak in complete sentences?” Snape mocks, and Harry feels _angry –_ how can this man still make him angry?

“Do you want to complain to your dear friends about it? Does the mean man bother you?” Harry knows he won’t stop until they’re both shouting and takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry, I was just... I’m sorry.”

“Say it,” the look on Snape’s face says he’s ready to take this all the way, and Harry knows better than to lie.

“I was trying to make conversation.”

“Weasley, I’m not even joking, he doesn’t _worship the ground I walk on_ ,” Snape whines, eyes evil and glittering.

Harry tries to keep his voice low, “I’m not – I’m not like that Snape, you know I’m not.”

“It’s been weeks that he’s been staying with me and he hasn’t kissed my feet once, it’s like he isn’t even grateful, even – ”

“Snape!” Harry feels his muscles ache with frustration and his eyes are starting to burn.

“You won’t believe it, various Weasleys, his house _smelled_ and there wasn’t a bathroom inside! You should’ve seen the slum he lived in! He’s so poor!”

Harry doesn’t hear more than that, he leaves the room running.

 

When Snape is with Teddy, he is gentle, he is kind. He has endless patience, reads as many stories as necessary until Teddy is asleep, is always by his side first when he falls or cries or need something. Harry complains to Hermione about it but she tells him it’s pathetic to be jealous of a child and he has to give it to her, she is right. She’s also too pregnant to disagree with. Liable to actually kill him. Doesn’t mean he’s graceful about accepting the truth, but at least Hermione always lets him apologize.

 

The first time Snape has a panic attack, Harry is completely thrown off. They’re just finishing dinner and Teddy and Harry are singing a song Teddy learned at school. Out of nowhere, Snape stands up and leaves the room, so Harry asks Teddy if he could please help the elves clear the table. They stopped protesting about Teddy having chores after Harry explained that it’d be good for him to feel like he’s a part of the household by helping out.

He closes the kitchen door carefully behind himself, listening for Snape, then realizes he must be in the lab.

“Snape?” He pushes the door open and finds Snape, hands shaking and fluttering, tracing his finger across the page of a potions book. “What happened?”

“Couldn’t sit still, can’t focus. Please leave.” Snape jerks away from the book as if bitten, hands shaking and plucking at his clothes.

“Alright,” Harry promises, “anything I can do for you?”

“Yes tea please,” Snape’s voice is oddly even and he isn’t moving at all anymore, arms wrapped firmly around himself. It’s such a strange thing to say that Harry’s body obeys without questioning it, turning back to the kitchen and making Snape some of his favourite tea while Teddy and the elves are cleaning up.

When Harry gets back with the tea, Snape is still standing in the same position, except he’s now rocking back and forth a little. Snape doesn’t respond when Harry puts a hand on his shoulder and gently guides him out of the lab and into the sitting room. He sits down on the sofa and doesn’t blink when Harry sets the tea down on the coffee table. Snape’s breathing is coming in way too fast.

Unsure what to do next, Harry turns on the lamps around the room to create pleasant warm light, and gets a fire going. He sees Snape’s whole body is tense and gets him a throw from the basket next to the sofa, draping it over his shoulders gently. When Teddy bounces in and launches himself into his favourite chair, Harry really doesn’t know what to do anymore. He doesn’t want to send Teddy away, doesn’t want to deal with high energy Teddy, doesn’t want to bother Snape.

“Budge over,” he decides, joining Teddy in the chair, rearranging them both so Teddy is mostly in his lap. “How are you, Teddy?”

Teddy giggles at the strange question, but decides to play. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m well, you’re very kind for asking.”

It’s a testament to how much Snape ignores Harry that Teddy just accepts that this is a conversation between the two of them.

“So Teddy,” he asks, grasping for something to talk about, “how was your day?”

“It was good,” Teddy has to think really hard on this and it gives Harry an idea.

“What was your favourite part?”

Teddy talks about his day, and Harry tells him about his own day, and they talk about their favourite things to do, favourite things to eat, what they’re looking forward to doing tomorrow. From the corner of his eyes, Harry watches Snape relax little by little, until he pulls his legs up and buries his face in his knees. Teddy is following Harry’s lead in keeping his voice down and keeping the conversation light and calm. When it’s time for bed, Snape doesn’t move, so Harry picks Teddy up and caries him upstairs. Teddy is out after only one story, another positive side effect of quiet conversation before bed apparently, and Harry promises him his papa will come say goodnight later.

In the sitting room, Snape hasn’t moved. Harry places a hand on his shoulder again, extremely slow and careful, and realizes he’s asleep. That’s probably a good thing. He sits down on the sofa next to him to think and decides in the end that the kindest thing to do would probably be to have the elves wake him in an hour and pretend all the other things never happened. He covers Snape with another blanket and asks Noddy if she’d please wake him if he hasn’t woken up an hour from now. She nods seriously, picks up the by now stone cold teacup. 

“It’s the tension again?”

How did the elves figure it out before he did? “I think so, yes. Do you have any idea how I might be able to help him?”

She shakes her head, ears flapping. “I think you is doing everything already.”

 

Snape doesn’t bring it up, and Harry hadn’t expected him too, but for dinner there’s a roast. Harry’s favourite. He must’ve been listening then, Harry thinks, and he decides to get them a Kneazle.


	4. Highbury Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the sitting room, Snape hasn’t moved. Harry places a hand on his shoulder again, extremely slow and careful, and realizes he’s asleep. That’s probably a good thing. He sits down on the sofa next to him to think and decides in the end that the kindest thing to do would probably be to have the elves wake him in an hour and pretend all the other things never happened. He covers Snape with another blanket and asks Noddy if she’d please wake him if he hasn’t woken up an hour from now. She nods seriously, picks up the by now stone cold teacup. 
> 
> “It’s the tension again?”
> 
> How did the elves figure it out before he did? “I think so, yes. Do you have any idea how I might be able to help him?”
> 
> She shakes her head, ears flapping. “I think you is doing everything already.”
> 
> Snape doesn’t bring it up, and Harry hadn’t expected him too, but for dinner there’s a roast. Harry’s favourite. He must’ve been listening then, Harry thinks, and he decides to get them a Kneazle."

Teddy picks the worst Kneazle at the store, it’s so small he can hold it in one hand and has the ugliest underbite Harry has ever seen. One look at the Kneazle tells Harry that Teddy will, without a doubt, be a Hufflepuff. He kind of can’t wait to talk to Snape about it.

Harry doesn’t like the sickly Kneazle, but knows better than to fix an immediate connection and they take the patchy ball of fluff home.

“Will it grow?” Is the only thing Snape has to say.

Teddy nods, “he’s just a baby according to the sir at the store.”

“If it gets into my lab I will use it for potions ingredients,” Snape decides and somehow that makes Teddy giggle. Harry would’ve taken the threat seriously.

Snape’s also a liar. Harry finds him cradling the Kneazle, letting it sit on his lap, feeding it scraps under the dinner table. It’s not even subtle. He’s calmer with the monster around.

“Where’s the beast?” Harry asks one night, when he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t step on it. It has a habit of changing colour, and who knows if today it decided to look like a carpet.

“Hans!” Teddy calls, and a dishevelled face peeks up from inside Snape’s robes, very obviously upset at having been woken up. Harry has to fight not to laugh, and vows to store the slightly embarrassed look Snape gave him forever.

 

It finally clicks when Harry takes Snape and Teddy to the park. Teddy is playing with some other child by the swings, and Harry offered to go get hot chocolate and coffee. When he returns, balancing three hot cups, he notices how Snape is standing with a stiff, straight back, just off to the side. He keeps his eyes on Teddy, except when he glances around to take in the environment, and the way his hand seems to be playing with something in his pocket tells Harry he’s holding his wand. He makes sure to be in Snape’s field of vision as he approaches, and to keep his voice down when he hands him his coffee.

“Everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be,” Snape snaps, then flicking his eyes about as he realizes that he just gave himself away.

“Go play with him,” Harry suggest gently, when he realizes that Teddy is waving at a girl that’s being dragged off by a parent while waving back over her shoulder. “I’ll guard your coffee.”

He hopes Snape hears the _I’ll keep an eye on things_ , and can’t stop his smile when he gets handed back the cup. Snape runs off and picks Teddy up, twirling him around, before putting him on the swings. He sees them chat and watches Teddy laugh as Snape pushes him higher and higher. When they walk back over together a few minutes later, Snape looks more relaxed. They make Teddy sit while he drinks his hot chocolate, then each hold one of his hands on the way back to Grimmauld Place.

Snape has some type of PTSD. The physical tension, the raging energy, the explosive anger, even his inability to talk about emotions and his surprise every week when he realizes it’s Sunday as Harry talks to Teddy about going back to school over dinner. The obsessive planning and writing of lists, his panic, his irritation. He decides to ask a colleague about it tomorrow. Trying to think of what to do is giving Harry a headache, so instead he swings Teddy’s hand. “Left,” as he steps with his left foot.

“Right!” Teddy answers, and they stomp along, laughing. When Harry notices Teddy is getting bored with the game, he points out a duck.

“How many types of birds can you name?”

Teddy starts with ducks, and pigeons, and swans. Harry helps him with geese and chickens, and eventually Severus joins in. “Penguins, flamingos, ostriches.”

“Goats!” Teddy shouts, and they all laugh.

 

One morning Harry gets to school a little early. Teddy runs off to play with a friend before the bell rings and they have to go inside, and Harry grins at the sight of him being greeted with a cheer. It’s good that he’s made friends. One of the mothers that he’s on head-nodding terms with stands close to him and sends her children off to play.

“Teddy is yours, right?” She asks, and Harry nods absentmindedly. He is kind of looking forward to getting to work early and having some tea before his first meeting.

“My eldest is in his class, that’s her,” she points, “the blue coat. Maya.”

“Oh nice,” Harry hums, thinking desperately of how to get out of this situation.

“Who is the man that picks Teddy up?” She asks, clearly not realizing how much Harry wants to leave.

“His father.”

She makes a surprised little noise, “and you?”

“I’m his godfather,” Harry finally turns to look at her. She looks like she might burst with curiosity. “It’s a long and extremely sad story that I’d rather not get into.”

“No that’s alright,” she waves her hand, makes an expression as if she’s doing him a favour, “it’s just that he’s so blond.”

Harry is well aware that Teddy is blond, it’s a struggle every morning to get it to the right shade. At home he prefers blue or pink, sometimes switching to black or red when he’s talking to someone. It only got worse when they got Hans, because Hans is blue most of the time. The lady doesn’t stop talking.

“And his father, you say, his father’s hair is so dark. We were wondering. And he’s not exactly friendly, is he?” She laughs, polite and tittering. Harry’s had enough.

“You know nothing about us, Severus is the most devoted father I’ve ever met. Now please, I have to get to work.”

He wants to spin around and Apparate, but catches himself at the last moment, waving at Teddy before finding an alley to actually leave from. He’s still irritated when he gets to the office and has a hard time finding the words to explain it to his secretary until she pats him on the hand.

“I get it,” she says, “it’s hard to have people think poorly of people you respect.”

 

“Severus?” Snape drawls when Harry joins him in the sitting room a few days later, tea tray in hand.

“No that’s your name,” Harry teases, and luckily Snape seems to be in a good mood, so his head doesn’t get bitten off.

“I had Maya’s mother inform me that my young man is, and these are her words, utterly charming.”

“Oh shit,” Harry sets the tray down and sinks into the sofa, across from Snape. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m surprised you told her my name.”

“It was that or hexing her, honestly.” To Harry’s surprise, Snape chuckles, accepting the teacup gracefully.

“I can imagine, she’s profoundly irritating. Even when she’s not giving me the evil eye.”

Of course the woman would change her mind on Snape after Harry chewed her out, why not go with the most irritating outcome possible?

“I would,” Snape takes a deep breath and when Harry looks up at him, he’s staring at his hands intently. “I would like to thank you – for whatever it is you said about me. It has to have been positive.”

Harry feels his heart ache and resists the urge to wrap Snape up in a hug. “You’re very welcome. I told her you were a devoted father.”

Snape’s head whips back up and his cheeks are red. Harry tries to show him _I’m calm_ , _we’re alright_. It works, or at least Snape doesn’t yell at him, but returns to his tea instead.

 

“Why can’t we give him Wolfsbane?” Harry asks, as they’re sitting in front of the fire of the large guest bedroom the last night of Teddy’s second full moon.

“Wolfsbane is toxic,” Snape tells his drink. “I am trying to identify the properties of the individual ingredients, starting with the non-deadly ones. So far I’ve kept him on Calming and Sleeping Draughts mostly, but ideally he’d remember himself both during and after the full moon.”

Harry nods. Teddy’s small now, even as a wolf, so they have nothing to worry about, but this is not a solution for the rest of their lives.

When Teddy starts stirring as the moon rises, Harry and Snape both shift easily. Snape lies down next to him and licks his face and Harry is glad his expression is hard to read when he’s a stag. It is without a doubt the cutest thing he’s ever seen, especially as a disgruntled Teddy shifts into a wolf cub and the licking makes the hair all over his face stand in odd angles. The shifting is so much less dramatic now and Harry is grateful for it.

 

The next night Harry hears a scream and a cry from Teddy’s bedroom, even though the full moon should’ve been over yesterday. He runs up to find a growling little cub standing in the middle of the room, tearing at bedsheets. It goes without saying that this would happen on a Friday. Stepping back, he sends out his Patronus to get Snape while he can still hold his wand, then he goes in, changing and trying to kick the door closed and making sure not to startle Teddy all at the same time.

He licks Teddy, nuzzles him, gets him back onto the bed, then finally settles in for the wait when Teddy turns human again. Absurd. Harry shifts too.

“What was that?” He tells Teddy, petting his hair.

“I dreamt that I was a wolf,” Teddy sighs into his shoulder and Harry picks him up to carry him to the spare bedroom where the bedsheets haven’t been torn to shreds. As he’s walking up the stairs, Severus comes running in. A single finger to his lips over Teddy’s shoulder and Snape nods, deep black serious eyes. Harry takes Teddy up and is joined soon enough by Snape, who is dressed in Muggle clothes and looks extremely disgruntled. Teddy gets tucked in by Harry, and both of them sit down in front of the fire with a drink. Harry has to fight to keep his eyes away from Snape’s long, slim legs. It’s the first time he’s not buttoned-up head to toe in black robes, even if his skin is still carefully covered.

“The fuck was that all about?” Snape asks Harry, hissing but keeping his voice low. Harry casts a Muffliato.

“He said he dreamt he was a wolf, all I know is that I heard him cry out. He changed back as soon as I calmed him down.”

“How did this happen?” Snape gets up and starts pacing, a little unsteady on the turns. _He’s drunk_ , Harry thinks, with a smile. He’s been curious about where Snape goes on Fridays, it’s nice to think of Snape as having a social life that involves Muggle clothes and drinking.

“Remember what the American said about some born wolves being able to change at will?” Harry takes a sip. “Maybe he just needs to learn how to control it.”

“They also said they couldn’t explain and we’d have to go there! Travel to America! Possibly for months!”

Harry looks at Snape, who’s actually panting now, standing in between Harry and the fire, lit up from the back and eerily magical. His very skin seems to be crackling.

“We could rent someplace near them, perhaps. It’d need space for brewing. But it can’t be hard to figure out a way to get the potions you brew to your customers here?”

Snape sinks down in the chair next to Harry and rolls his eyes. “I’m a Potter, allow me to simply throw some funds at the problem.”

Harry frowns. “You’re making me sound like Malfoy. We can handle Teddy changing every night if we have to, but what if it starts happening during the day? What about when he gets older?”

“I can’t ruin my business, Potter. I’ll never recover from another blow to my reputation. Unless you’re suggesting – ”

“No,” Harry holds up his hand. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the past few weeks it’s that he needs Snape. “We’ll go all together or not at all.”

Snape drains his glass and gets up again. “We’ll talk about this another time, I have to go make sure my Obliviate’s were enough. Please refrain from sending me another Patronus, you’re lucky there weren’t many people around.”

Harry can’t help but snort at that. “How else will I contact you?”

“I suppose that, if numbers aren’t entirely beyond you too,” Snape fishes around in his pocket with an angry scowl on his face, taking out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling something down, “you could just... call.”

Harry stares at the piece of paper for a long time after Snape has left. Snape has a mobile phone.

 

The next morning they decide that Teddy will have to go back to his own room, after they fix everything. They’ll just have to keep a monitor on him, which Snape develops in thirty minutes in the most mesmerizing display of applied Arithmetics and spell-creation Harry has ever seen.

“Ammonitrix,” Snape intones, waving his wand at the room and looking pleased when it shimmers purple. “It’ll warn us of loud noises.”

Harry laughs, “that’s amazing.”

The look on Snape’s face is worth a million Galleons. Confused, then pleased, then genuinely happy when he realizes Harry is serious.

“Well done Snape,” Harry pats him on the arm, and they go back downstairs together.

Snape sinks down onto the sofa, still surrounded by a pile of books and notes and calculation, and Harry goes to get Teddy, gets him dressed, has breakfast, wondering where Snape is. He doesn’t normally miss meals. He drops Teddy off at his classmates’ house for a birthday party (it’s a secret what we’re going to do but bring your swimming clothes!).

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry goes on a Snape-hunt. Not in the library, not in the lab. Maybe his office?

“Albert?” He asks, and Albert appears with a pop. “Hey, have you seen Snape?”

“Snape’s in his bedroom, Master Harry. Should we prepare him food for in bed? Is he ill?”

“I’ll go have a look,” Harry decides, praying he’s not about to be slashed to bits by some anti-Harry wards. He knocks on the door, waits a bit, then knocks again.

“What?” He hears, finally, so he pushes the door open carefully. Snape is sitting in the wide windowsill, looking out onto the street, wrapped in his duvet. He turns his head to look at Harry, his hair is fluffy, his eyes are small and mean.

“I was worried for you,” Harry explains. “You missed breakfast. Can I get you something?”

“I’m simply engrossed in my Tolstoy. Not sure you’ve ever had the pleasure, but Tolstoy is an – ”

“That’ll do,” Harry says gently. It actually shuts Snape up. He notices that Snape is rubbing his foot against his ankle repeatedly, and tapping his finger on the book’s edge. Snape notices him looking and stills immediately.

“I was hoping,” Harry tries, “that we could spend the morning reaching out to Werewolves that might have experience with this. We haven’t sent anything to those Canadian packs yet, and I was hoping to cross-reference the letter we got yesterday with Dr. Patton’s book.”

“Big word, cross-reference,” Snape drawls, but he stares at his feet and manages to will them into motion, uncurling from the windowsill slowly.

“Shall I meet you in the library?” Harry suggests. He doesn’t want to tell Snape that he should probably shower, but prays that given the space, he will. Snape nods slowly, and with a last look around, Harry leaves the room. It’s good to see that Snape has changed some things about what used to be a guestroom. The picture Harry gave him of Teddy in the park stands on the mantelpiece. He’s added a chair and extra bookshelves. It’s hardly drastic, but it’s more personal than it was when he moved in.

 

In the library, Harry sets up with the letter and the book, and asks for a big tray with sandwiches for lunch. Noddy goes above and beyond, as always, and brings cakes and orange juice and fruit too. Snape joins him a bit later. His hair is still wet from his shower and he has changed his robes. Harry clamps down on his happy smile at the last second, not wanting to make Snape feel stared at.

They read and write silently for a few hours, only pausing to eat or have something to drink. When Harry gets a stack of letter dumped on his book, he looks up.

“Need your signature,” Snape explains.

Harry smiles, “abusing my fame already?”

“I’ve been using your credit to order ridiculous leather outfits for months, Potter, can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”

Harry laughs, surprised and happy. “You have a sense of humour!”

“On occasion,” Snape admits, “don’t get used to it. Now sign.”

“You know,” Harry says as he gets to work on signing letter after letter, “Dr. Patton’s magical training is so different to what we’re taught at Hogwarts, it makes me want to send him our Transfiguration syllabus and tell him to explain himself in words that make sense.”

Snape laughs a little at that, so Harry counts it as a win. “Why Transfiguration?”

“Because – wait.” Harry puts the letters aside and draws the book closer, “here, read this passage, it sounds like what we had to do to become Animagi.”

Snape sits on the arm of the chair Harry’s in and leans over to trail a long elegant finger over the page, he smells warm and clean and male. “There, what does that mean?”

Harry pulls out the other book he was working with, the only book in the Black library on non-English magic and finds the page. “That.”

“Shit,” Snape sighs. “We’d need to translate all of this magic or get someone to explain it us step-by-step.”

“For the rest of the book, yes, but Animagus Transfiguration doesn’t use wands or words because of how inconvenient that is.”

“So, it’s more similar,” Snape takes some notes on a spare piece of parchment.

Harry has a sudden idea, and it’s insane, but – “Snape.”

“What?”

“What if we teach him to become an Animagus?”

Snape’s mouth opens as he looks at Harry. He closes it resolutely after a second, but nods. “We’ll write to Minerva and ask her for help.”

“Alright,” Harry doesn’t try to hide his grin now. “Yes.”


	5. The North Pennines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Harry has a sudden idea, and it’s insane, but – “Snape.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “What if we teach him to become an Animagus?”
> 
> Snape’s mouth opens as he looks at Harry. He closes it resolutely after a second, but nods. “We’ll write to Minerva and ask her for help.”
> 
> “Alright,” Harry doesn’t try to hide his grin now. “Yes.”"

Minerva explains that Transfiguring the self is a matter of concentration and power. Some children have the power, but few develop the concentration necessary to change until they are of age. But then Teddy has done it before, hasn’t he?

She gives them a stack of books on the topic, and a list of useful spells, as well as permission to call on her anytime. She even pats Snape on the head before leaving. Snape doesn’t so much as blink, and smiles when he notices Harry staring. They’ve decided that since Teddy has changed before, they’ll focus on teaching him to change at will, and skip the Animagus potion and spell entirely.

 

“Harry?” Teddy asks when they’re having hot chocolate in front of the fire one Friday night. It's dark outside, and cold, and Harry feels more acutely than ever that he's home, and he's safe. Grimmauld Place has never been like that before.  

 “Yes?” Harry looks up from his book and sets it aside so Teddy can climb into his lap. “What is it?”

Teddy snuggles in and Harry kisses the top of his head. “Why does papa not join us for pyjama nights?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, “you’ll have to ask him.”

“And breakfast too.”

“He’s there for breakfast normally, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Teddy rolls his eyes, “but not in pyjamas.”

Harry leans back, bringing Teddy with him. “When you went to the new school for the first time, do you remember what you wore?”

“The dinosaur shirt,” he doesn’t need to think about it.

“Did it make you feel more comfortable meeting new kids and talking to them, to be wearing your dinosaur shirt?”

Teddy nods, “but we’re his family.”

“You’re right,” Harry pets his hair, “but not everyone can do everything at the same speed. And that’s ok.”

“Have you ever seen him in anything else than his robes? Or the clothes he uses to pick me up from school?” Teddy asks, and Harry becomes aware of movement by the door. How long has he been standing here?

“No,” Harry lies, he’s not going to tell Teddy about the Boggart or Snape’s memories. “I haven’t.”

“Oh.” Teddy sniffles a little and wriggles closer still.

“Teddy,” Harry keeps his voice soft and low, but easy enough to hear even for Snape, who is still hiding in the shadows. “Teddy, sometimes bad things happen to people, and they are sad or angry or in pain.”

“Like with my grandma,” Teddy says, “I’m sad and she’s in pain.”

“Yes, exactly like your grandma. It will take time, but someday you will heal. The worse the bad thing, the longer it takes. All you can do is give people time, and try to be kind to them. To show them you love them, and be there if they want to talk.”

Teddy looks at the fire and leans heavily on Harry, so Harry picks his book back up and lets him recharge until it’s time for bed. Snape leaves the room pretty soon after Harry and Teddy stop talking, closing the door as quietly as possible.

 

“Did your thing get cancelled?” Harry hands Snape a drink and sits down opposite him on the other chair. Pulls up his legs.

“Mmm?”

“You got home earlier today than you normally do.” Snape looks up at that, absolutely not pleased.

“What is it to you?”

“Making conversation,” Harry smiles at him and pokes him gently with his toe. Snape stares at the contact like he’s expecting it to suddenly start hurting. Like he too remembers that he was out of sorts for a whole day after the last time he came back early on Friday. “How are you?”

“My book club ended early because there was another event at the place we go. I’m fine.”

“Snape,” Harry smiles, hopes he sounds gently teasing, “I think that’s the most personal information you’ve ever given me.”

“You do have a tendency of just taking it,” Snape shrugs, and Harry claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself gasping.

“Look,” he says, when he’s recovered a little, “you’re right.”

“But?”

“No but, you’re right. I’m glad you told me that. I’m really sorry for violating your privacy.”

“It was a lifetime ago, Potter,” Snape sighs, sounding endlessly tired.

“That is true.”

They stare at the fire for a while, nursing their drinks. Finally, Harry can’t keep it inside anymore. “You don’t want to talk about it, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Can I just – ”

“Shut up, Potter.”

 

They read as much as they can about Animagus Transformation, then take Teddy to the bedroom upstairs on a Saturday morning, two weeks after talking to Minerva. Teddy sits on the sofa with Snape, Harry sits in the armchair by the fire.

“Teddy,” Harry starts. “You know how your papa and I can use magic to become animals?”

Teddy nods.

“We want to teach you to do the same. Can you try it for us right now?”

Teddy makes a face of the utmost concentration, clenching his hands into fists, vibrating a little even, but nothing happens. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“That’s alright,” Harry hurries to say. “It took me almost a whole year to do it for the first time, and then a lot of time after that until I could do it as easily as I can now.”

He stands up to show Teddy, finding the stag deep in his chest and shifting as easily as anything. He lets Teddy touch his nose, his face, his antlers. With a step back, he becomes human again.

“One thing that you should know,” Harry sits down again, “is that it’s uncomfortable, and something even painful to change. But the more you do it, the easier it gets.”

Teddy looks at Snape and Snape nods at him.

“For me,” Harry continues, “it helped to do it in stages.”

He concentrates very hard and feels his fur grow. Teddy stares at him in horror but Snape laughs.

“I got the nails first,” he tells Teddy, showing his hands and how they turn into claws. Teddy shudders again.

“Whatever you pick, or however you want to learn,” Harry decides they’ve had enough information for the day. “Remember that your body wants to be human, so changing back is always easier, and that we are not afraid of you.”

“Do you have any questions?” Snape prods Teddy and gets a giggle for his efforts. Teddy thinks on it for a second.

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“When I’m a wolf. With the moon.”

“Ah,” Snape makes a strange face. “I give you a potion, for the pain, but changing does hurt you. It’s a slow change, which is why we want to teach you.”

“Will I remember?”

Snape shrugs, “that is what we hope.”

Teddy stands up and walks to the centre of the room, and Harry and Snape join him. Harry changes and wriggles his ears, and when Snape sees what Teddy is laughing at, he does the same. With a look of delight on his face, he puts one hand on his stomach, and changes his own ears too. Cute little cub ears.

“Well done!” Snape laughs and goes to hug Teddy. Harry wishes he had a camera, especially since Snape doesn’t seem to have noticed that he grew out his tail and it’s now curling around Teddy.

 

“How long are we going to give this?” Harry asks that night. “What is our endgame?”

“We want him to be able to be around humans during a full moon.” Snape doesn’t even look up from his book.

“For Hogwarts?”

“And sleepovers,” Snape shrugs, “for his comfort, and our own.”

“When do we decide that becoming an Animagus isn’t enough?”

That gets his attention, deep black eyes, “you sound like you’ve already decided it won’t work.”

“No,” Harry frowns, he wants this to work. “I’m trying to decide on a timeline. What if he still can’t do it two years from now?”

“Well with that attitude he’ll never learn,” Snape snaps the book closed and looks at Harry.

“I’m trying to get a plan B sorted.”

“And what is your plan B?” Snape’s nostrils flare in a way that spells _imminent shouting_. “America?”

“I don’t care what plan B is,” Harry tries to explain, but he knows he’s losing. He’s getting angry. “I just want to be on the same page!”

“So if he can’t transform at will in March you’ll fuck off with him,” Snape makes a dismissive hand gesture, in the general direction of overseas.

“I literally couldn’t even if I wanted to, since you're his actual father. And I don’t want to!”

“You’re not a better parent than me,” Snape taunts and Harry only realizes he’s standing after, when he’s already shouted.

“This is NOT A CONTEST!” He stomps his feet. Why is it so hard to talk about things?

“Isn’t it?” Snape stays silky smooth, almost as if he’s enjoying himself, and Harry wants to make him hurt too. Swallows down all the insults and the pain he can come up with, and breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth instead.

“If by summer he can’t change back during full moon, we’ll fly in Mr. Morris.”

“If it pleases the Great Leader,” Snape says, with a nod of his head, and Harry falls back into his own chair, rolls his eyes.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he decides. “You piss me off. So much.”

“Dear Diary,” Snape mocks, “today the evil git insulted me again.”

“He called me Great Leader, but didn’t even bow when I entered the room!” Harry continues, because he knows how this is going to end. To his surprise, Snape starts laughing, still languid and stretched out in his chair.

“Fuck,” Harry says, once again. With feeling.

 

They try to make changing a game. When they’re having dinner, Harry will change his ears, Snape will use his tail to tickle Teddy’s neck, Harry will pretend to try to eat with a hoof. Teddy can do small changes well enough when he’s relaxed, but it drains his energy. All the books say that this makes sense, so they decide not to worry about it too much. Minerva joins them for dinner sometimes and joins in on the fun, Ron and Hermione mostly seem to find it stressful.

It falls to Harry to explain to Teddy why he shouldn’t change his ears at dinner when they’re visiting the Burrow, Snape silently laughing at him from across the room the whole time.

 

“Do you think we should try to teach him how to change back during the full moon?” Harry asks when Teddy is fast asleep and they’re waiting for his change to start.

“I’m not sure that’ll be possible,” Snape confesses, “we should ask the Americans.”

“At this rate we can write a book on Werewolves,” Harry groans, leaning back into the chair.

“We could.”

“Did you ever end up writing a Potions book?” Harry can’t help but ask. He’s so comfortable in front of the fire, in the quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“You clearly hate the book they made us buy,” Harry lets his eyes fall closed. “I kind of assumed you were waiting out the war before rewriting the entire curriculum.”

“Clearly?” Snape sounds so off that Harry opens his eyes.

“Yeah,” what part of it wasn’t obvious? “You wrote the instructions on the blackboard for us, so we wouldn’t have to rely on the book, assigned us extra reading all the time, made us memorize most of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.”

Snape still looks confused, his eyes wide, his mouth more relaxed than Harry has ever seen it.

“You wrote some truly scathing remarks in the margins of your copy,” Harry finally admits. “Shove a bezoar down their throats?”

“You were paying attention.” Wonder. That’s wonder in his voice. Harry feels the urge to laugh it off but holds himself back. Better to revel in this feeling of quiet fascination. Except maybe he should let Snape know that he matters? Harry barely opens his mouth before Snape cuts in. “Shut up, Potter.”

So he does, but not before shooting Snape the warmest grin he can manage. It makes the tips of his ears pink even though he’s scowling and Harry wants to kiss him. He lets that emotion make his grin even warmer, and poor Snape splutters indignantly before getting back to his reading.

 

Snape sits on the sofa in the living room with his legs crossed and his shoulders up by his ears for an hour before Harry can’t take it anymore.

“Snape?” Snape just grunts in reply. “Snape.”

He finally looks up, “what is it?”

“May I touch you?”

He pales a little and shifts back. “Excuse me?”

“Your shoulders,” Harry nods, “they’re so tense it’s giving me a headache. Would you let me give you a shoulder rub?”

Snape’s eyes narrow in disbelief, but he doesn’t say no, so Harry walks over to the sofa. Keeping his movements slow and deliberate, he places his hands on Snape’s shoulders. They’re thin and bony, like the rest of him probably, and Snape’s breathing hitches at just the touch. Harry lets his thumbs make little circles before getting the rest of his hands involved, careful not to get tangled in Snape’s hair. It doesn’t take long for Snape to relax into the touch, for his breathing to become deep and steady again. Right when Harry’s hands start to hurt, he notices the tension is coming back. Probably too much touching, he thinks, so he stills his hands, and steps away. Joins Snape on the sofa to make himself another cup of tea. When he looks at Snape, warm tea soothing his hands, his eyes are closed, his expression as if he’s in pain. When he notices Harry looking he stares back. Wet black eyes. Dark and endless.

“Do you do that for your girlfriend?”

It throws Harry off so much that it distracts him from why Snape’s eyes would be wet. “Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Snape shrugs, and he leans over to make himself some tea. Long pale hands. Such grace in all his movements. Harry can’t look away.

“I’m just surprised. You think I’d hide a girlfriend from you? That I’d be able to have a girlfriend considering how often I’m here?”

Snape’s mouth twitches but he rolls his eyes.

“You’ve got me curious now,” Harry teases, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Snape looks at him again, like he’s trying to look through him. Harry imagines it’d feel this way to look at an X-ray of yourself. Entirely overexposed. He seems to settle on something and shakes no. “I suppose I expected you to have a gaggle of ginger children by now. Or at least a wife.”

“I was engaged,” Harry says. “Didn’t work out though.”

“How come?” Snape’s voice is so gentle. Harry’s only ever heard him speak to Teddy like this.

“We met at university, through one of my professors. Because of the war, and being Muggle-born, it...” Harry tries to sort out his thoughts. He’d told people when they were done, of course, but even Ron and Hermione don’t know why. “We clicked. We both wanted to be away from the Wizarding World, but when I finished uni I wanted to come back, I got the position at the Ministry, I was going to use my fame for good. I didn’t want to... Hide. Anymore. And, Hufflepuffs right, he was so obsessed with being the best he could be, doing right by his research and how the Wizarding World was nowhere near ready for science and...”

“He?” Snape interrupts, his voice still gentle, and Harry looks up from his hands. Snape looks uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he says, he didn’t mean to make Snape uncomfortable. “He, yes.”

“A Hufflepuff?”

“Jacob Thomson, I think he was five years above me in Hogwarts.”

“I remember. He was in my N.E.W.T. class.”

“Is it...” Harry tries to find the words, “a problem?”

“No,” Snape thinks for a bit, then shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“Snape,” Harry says, unsure how he’s going to end the sentence, “thank you – ”

“Christ you’re awful,” Snape sighs, but there’s no anger. Harry does shut up.

 

Teddy starts changing more often, usually at night while he’s asleep. One time when he’s really angry about needing a bath, once when he’s upset about his grandmother. When Harry and Teddy tag along with Snape to pick some type of mushroom that Harry can’t remember the name of, Teddy is chasing a butterfly and suddenly shifts all the way. Snape stands in front of him in a flash, foreboding in his long black cloak, and one stern look is enough to change Teddy back.

“Do it again,” Harry says, standing next to Snape. They both turn to look at him. “Remember what that felt like?” Teddy nods, and Snape catches on too.

“I agree,” he says, “do it now.”

Teddy has a look of concentration on his face but doesn’t make it beyond ears and a tail.

“Trust me?” Harry looks at Snape for permission when he takes his hand. Snape nods, and Harry Apparates all three of them to a wide and empty field.

“Where are we?” Snape asks, looking around.

“The emptiest moor in the United Kingdom,” Harry says, looking around. “I did my research. I come here to scream sometimes.”

“I can scream?” Teddy asks, his face lighting up, and Snape and Harry both laugh.

“Only if you can keep up,” Harry says, and he runs off. Snape rushes after him, having abandoned his basket of some-special-mushroom, and Teddy tries to chase them but falls behind soon.

“Not fair!” He bellows, and Harry slows down a little, before changing into a stag and trotting on. Snape shifts too, and they run side by side, a little too fast for Teddy to be able to keep up. He tries though, they can hear him panting. A growl makes Harry want to turn around but Snape urges him to keep going, and soon enough the cub takes them over. A wild grin on his face, his tongue hanging out. Snape launches into him and they roll on the grass. Harry follows, very aware of how lethal his antlers would be to both of them. When they stop rolling, Snape is licking Teddy’s cub face, and Harry shifts again. Snape steps away from Teddy before shifting too, and before they know it, Teddy has shifted as well. He’s panting and laughing, so are Snape and Harry.

“Again,” Snape demands, and Teddy does it again, runs a lap around the two of them, and shifts back. He looks so proud and happy that Harry can’t resist scooping him up and twirling him around, kissing his face.

“AH!” Teddy giggles, “stop!”

Snape steps closer and joins in, tickling Teddy for good measure. “I’m so _proud_ of you.”

“Me too,” Harry grins, “you’ve done extremely well. Do you want to write professor McGonagall when we get home so you can show her?”

Teddy nods eagerly. “Is it still a secret from the others?”

“Let’s see how you do the coming days. If it stays this easy you can show the Weasleys on Sunday,” Snape promises, with one eye on Harry. Harry nods.

Teddy falls asleep almost the second they get home, but he did it. Standing over Teddy, knocked out on the couch, Harry holds out his fist to Snape, who stares at it for a long moment before realizing what's expected of him, and bumping his own fist against Harry's gently. They can't seem to help grinning at each other. 

 


	6. The Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“Again,” Snape demands, and Teddy does it again, runs a lap around the two of them, and shifts back. He looks so proud and happy that Harry can’t resist scooping him up and twirling him around, kissing his face.
> 
> “AH!” Teddy giggles, “stop!”
> 
> Snape steps closer and joins in, tickling Teddy for good measure. “I’m so proud of you.”
> 
> “Me too,” Harry grins, “you’ve done extremely well. Do you want to write professor McGonagall when we get home so you can show her?”
> 
> Teddy nods eagerly. “Is it still a secret from the others?”
> 
> “Let’s see how you do the coming days. If it stays this easy you can show the Weasleys on Sunday,” Snape promises, with one eye on Harry. Harry nods.
> 
> Teddy falls asleep almost the second they get home, but he did it. Standing over Teddy, knocked out on the couch, Harry holds out his fist to Snape, who stares at it for a long moment before realizing what's expected of him, and bumping his own fist against Harry's gently. They can't seem to help grinning at each other. "

Harry comes into the kitchen one day to find Snape and Ron halfway through a chess game.

“Hey,” he greets, and neither of them looks up. “Ron?”

“Oh hi,” Ron says distractedly, “d’you mind if I finish the game?”

“Sure,” Harry laughs. He makes himself tea and sits down next to Ron so he can watch. It’s a pretty brutal game, the Black family chess pieces listen to both of them well, but they’re as bloodthirsty as their previous owners.

“Stop that,” Ron has to tell his knight at some point while he’s hacking away at a pawn. “I want to move on with the game and if I need to use Reparo on that one i'll blast you to pieces.”

The knight grumbles but does still. Snape just laughs softly, and urges his own bishop on. In the end, Ron wins, but only just, and Snape takes it in stride. They shake hands across the table.

“Good game, Weasley. I’ll want a rematch.”

“And you. I’m looking forward to it.”

For the first time in at least an hour, Harry is actually acknowledged.

“Right, sorry Harry. I actually came to ask if you’d be down for a flight. I’m driving Hermione insane.”

“Seems like this worked to keep you occupied too,” Harry laughs, bumping his shoulder against Ron’s. “How is she?”

“The contractions slowed down again. Apparently, it’s a thing that happens. Mum said she should go lie on the floor with her feet on the sofa and they just stopped.”

“I suspect you may have been fussing,” Snape joins in, and Harry tries to not let his mouth fall open in surprise. Snape never joins conversations.

“Yeah,” Ron smiles. “I’m just excited.”

“Entirely normal, I’m sure,” Snape says, and when he walks around the table, he lets his hand rest on Ron’s shoulder for a second. Harry’s mouth does fall open this time, which gives Ron the giggles. Snape looks up, holding two mugs to pour Ron and himself some tea from the pot Harry made, and notices the expression on Harry’s face.

“Let me get this clear,” Harry says, making sure to sound extra fake-indignant so Snape won’t think he’s serious. “I spend months trying to be nice to you, and it turns out all you needed was to get your ass handed to you at  _chess_?”

The low rumble of Snape’s laugh makes Harry’s whole spine tingle. “If only you’d been creative enough to try.”

“Nah,” Ron says, “Harry couldn’t defeat Teddy at chess, it wouldn’t have worked.”

“Ugh,” Harry groans, but he can’t help smiling at the quiet comradery that’s suddenly present.

Obviously and inevitably, it doesn’t last. After dinner one night they leave Teddy in the sitting room to play by himself, and hide out in the library for some good old-fashioned screaming. Harry knows there’ll be screaming from the way the air crackles as he follows Snape up the stairs, but thinks desperately of ways to avoid it this time.

“Christmas,” Snape says, when the door is closed and warded behind them. Teddy hadn’t been able to talk about anything else over dinner, they’re practicing songs in school and talking about buying presents for each other and what they’ll do over the holidays.

“What do you normally do?” Harry asks, sitting down and asking for Noddy for tea. Severus paces up and down the carpet in front of the fire until the tea appears.

“Nothing. I do nothing. I’m Jewish.”

“Alright, is it important to you that we celebrate any other holidays?”

“It’ll be Hanukkah soon.”

“Fine,” Harry decides, and Snape whips around to stare at him. He has to actively hold his hands still around his tea. “Teach your son how to celebrate the things that are important to you.”

Snape doesn’t say anything, but he does keep pacing.

“Do we need anything for that? Is there anything I should do?”

“You...” Snape sighs, “you may attend. I’ll call for you when it’s time.”

“Good, glad we solved that,” Harry kind of wants to get back to work, he had three unexpected house calls and wants to get to the paperwork he didn’t have time for. “It is important to me to celebrate Christmas. Not because I’m religious, but because it makes me feel like a family. I like to celebrate Christmas at the Burrow.”

“Christmas Eve?”

“No,” Harry sighs, it seems they’re back to incomplete sentences. “Christmas Day. I was thinking we could spend Christmas Eve at St. Mungo's with Andromeda.”

In one step Snape is in front of him, towering over him. “With Christmas hats?” He mocks. “And songs? And presents?”

_ Don’t roll your eyes _ . “The hats are unnecessary. I’d like a Christmas tree in the house but it’s not necessary for me, Teddy doesn’t believe presents come from Santa, and I know I have a terrible singing voice but he’s a  _child._ ”

“So?”

“He’ll sing if he wants to.”

“I won’t participate in Christmas,” Snape decides, drawing himself up. And really, that’s not an option.

“I don’t care all that much how we do Christmas,” Harry tries to explain. “But I think we should do it all together.”

“You want me to...” Snape’s tone is mocking again, “visit with his grandmother, play nice with the Weasleys?”

“I want your son, our child,” Harry takes a deep breath but his temper is rising and why is Snape so  _difficult_. “To feel like he’s a part of something!”

“And what about me?!” Snape bellows, mad and angry. “Where do I fit in your little playing house fantasy? Shall I stand at attention, will you hand me a calendar with when and where I should be present? How do I stay in your good graces?”

“None of that!” Harry stands up too, they’re inches apart from each other but sitting and shouting is hard and he doesn’t want to feel small anymore. “I want to be a family dammit! With the three of us! I want to have family traditions and in-jokes and I don’t care how we do it!”

“Team orphans,” Snape sneers, “on a mission to normalcy.”

“Is that SO BAD?” Harry can’t help himself, he’s going to cry if he doesn’t get angry first. “Why are you here if that’s not what you want?”

Snape laughs, horrible and mean. “Because he’s mine, little Potter, and no one will ever say I ran from my responsibilities.”

“Don’t act like that’s all you’re worth!” Merlin, he needs help, now he’s angry at Snape on Snape’s behalf. “You lived for a cause, nearly died for a cause, you get to live  _again_ , fucking do it for YOU!”

“Maybe actually dying would’ve provided me with similar meaningful insights,” Snape remarks drily, even though his hands are clenched in tight fists and he’s shaking all over.

“I guess I could always die a couple more times, I’ll let you know what I find.”

They look at each other in shock at what Harry just said, until Harry can’t help himself and snorts. Snape cracks a wide crooked smile.

“I’m sorry,” Harry laughs, “I only have two modes.”

“And they are?” Snape looks genuinely interested in finding out before stomping the expression down. As if reminding himself that they’re still fighting.

“My therapist training wants to talk about feelings and my surviving boy hero mentality wants to make increasingly dark and awful jokes.”

“Well,” Snape falls back into a chair, “I don’t need to tell you what I prefer.”

“Snape,” Harry starts, sitting down too. “Let me get a Christmas tree, let’s do presents, let’s go to Andromeda with the three of us. I won’t make you come to the Burrow, but please let me take Teddy there?”

“Fuck it.” Snape sighs, and when Harry opens his mouth again to protest, to say this should be a yes or a no, Snape shoots him a look that Harry hears loud and clear. Shut up, Potter.

Full moons get easier. Not because Teddy can change back to human when he’s a wolf, not when the moon is full, but because in that too they have a routine. The drinks before the fire, the sleeping and calming potions to help Teddy. The change has gotten less painful since Teddy started transforming at will, so sometimes he doesn’t even wake up at all. Harry and Snape sleep with Teddy in the big bed, and it’s all strangely fine. He starts looking forward to the full moon, because it’s kind of nice to spend time together like that, with the three of them, and when they wake up in the morning they chat sleepily. Comfortably.

Hanukkah goes off without a hitch, it’s fun to hear Snape tell Teddy stories while they all look at the candles together every night. He reads out sometimes, teaches him a song in Hebrew, but mostly talks about spending time with his mother. What she taught him. It’s exactly what Harry wanted, this quiet time together while it’s cold and dark outside. The Christmas tree goes up in the sitting room halfway through the week, which is a little strange but then so is their family, and they decorate it together.

“I want to do the star!” Teddy whines, so Snape levitates him with a sigh. Harry bumps his finger into Snape’s wand, which makes Teddy overshoot a little, and Teddy squeals in delight. Snape picks up on the game, and moves Teddy a little too much to the right, a little too much to the left, all while he’s trying to get the star fixed to the top of the tree. They’re all laughing desperately by the time the house-elves get enough of it and help Teddy out.

“How do you fly?” Teddy asks Albert, eyes full of awe.

“House-elf magic is different,” Albert says, “wizard magic has spells and wands, I just think about what I want to do.”

“What do you think when you fly?” Harry asks, kind of curious now.

“Up,” Albert smiles at him, so Harry sits down on the floor and thinks  _up._  Nothing happens.

“Up.” Harry says, and he feels something now, low in his stomach. “UP!”

He shoots up, bumps his head against the ceiling, drops his concentration in surprise and falls back down onto the carpet with an  _oompf_. Someone cast a cushioning charm so he’s not hurt, but Teddy and Snape are howling with laughter. Snape actually has tears streaming down his face. So Harry joins in, sprawled out in the middle of the warm room. He watches Snape twitch his wand and falls down the last centimetre or so to the carpet.

“Thank you,” he smiles and Snape puts on his best  _I have no idea what you’re talking about_  face.

Christmas Eve with Andromeda is also surprisingly pleasant. She has regained some colour and the Healers are positive about her recovery, even though it’s slow. Harry hasn’t wrapped any of the presents for the Weasleys yet so he brings bags of things and paper and ribbons and sits on the floor the whole night, showing Teddy how to do it before Teddy gets bored and climbs into bed with Andromeda. He’s picked up a habit of chatting about everything that has happened since the last time he saw her, in excruciating detail, and Harry has learned to tune him out. Snape conjures a big comfortable-looking armchair in front of the fireplace, and leans back with a glass of the whiskey he’s brought. It’s... comfortable.

When Teddy talks himself to sleep, and Harry has finished wrapping the presents, he conjures his own chair, and sits down opposite Snape. Gets handed a glass.

“I’m joining you tomorrow,” Snape says.

“I had a feeling.” Teddy has been whining about it non-stop for literal weeks, it was only a matter of time before Snape would give in. “You can leave any time, I’ll tell them you had a monitoring spell on a potion or something.”

Snape looks at him like he’s trying to figure him out. “I do hate endless goodbyes.”

“Cheers to that,” they tap their glasses together and sit that way until they decide it’s time to take Teddy home. Harry stares at the ceiling thinking about the presents he bought Snape and Teddy. Hoping they'll be appreciated.

At breakfast, Teddy runs circles through the kitchen. Harry got the house-elves a new uniform each, and some chocolate to share, and they are besides themselves with gratitude so the table is groaning with all the food that's been piled onto it.

"Can I have my presents yet?" Teddy complains when Snape has finally managed to get him to sit down. Harry and Teddy look sleep-ruffled and are wearing pyjamas and bathrobes. Snape's only concession is woollen socks instead of leather boots, he's wearing many more black floor-length robes than necessary.

"Have something to eat and to drink," Harry suggests, "and then we'll check under the Christmas tree together."

When Harry's had enough, Snape's picked at his food for an appropriate amount of time, and Teddy has made it abundantly clear that he won't be able to eat anything else in his excitement, they go to the sitting room.

"Noddy," Harry says on his way out, "would you bring us some of this on a tea tray? They might get hungry after the nerves have calmed down a little."

Noddy nearly falls over with how deep she bows to him, and he nods back to hear.

"You're all absolutely amazing, I hope you know how grateful I am." He leaves the kitchen to avoid the emotional display that usually follows such statements.

Upstairs Teddy has sorted the presents into stacks, and Harry looks at Snape. "What do you say? One at a time, and then we guess who it's from?"

Snape nods, "but who shall go first?"

Teddy sticks up his hand like they taught him in Muggle school, and Snape makes a little wrist movement. He tears open the first present, the bigger one, and is absolutely delighted to find a Potions kit.

"From Severus!" He guesses, and Severus nods, a pleased little smile on his face. "It's for children a bit older than you, but I'll help you with it."

Teddy opens the box and starts placing the different jars and implements around him, looking at each with a kind of reverence Harry is really happy to see. He's glad Snape will get to share this with someone.

"Now," Harry suggests, "why don't you open the next one?"

Snape nods and picks up the gift Teddy and Harry had picked for him. He opens it, careful not to tear the paper, and holds out the big blue-ish gray throw for both of them to see. "Thank you Teddy," he says, but his mouth is unhappy and his eyes are shining. Teddy is too busy organizing the ingredients to notice, so Harry mouths  _is it alright?_  to Snape. Snape nods and wraps it around himself.

Harry's gift from Teddy is winter gloves 'because your hands are always cold' that Snape ensures him have been spelled to stay warm and dry in the worst kind of weather and should be comfortable to fly with in a snowstorm.

Teddy opens the Puddlemere Season's tickets next and Harry gets a big grin and a kiss for his effort before he goes back to the ingredients.

Snape opens the present Harry got him first, a very old book on wolves in Finnish, with a dictionary to match. They've been looking for a copy for ages and it took all the favours Harry had to get it.

"On loan?" Snape says, petting the cover carefully. The only other copy is in a museum.

"For you, to keep," Harry promises.

Harry opens his present to distract from Snape's unhappy mouth, and finds himself wholly unprepared. It's a large portrait of his mother's family, framed, with his grandparents, his mum, and Petunia smiling awkwardly in their Sunday's best. He's never seen this picture before, touches their faces carefully through the glass. "Oh," it's all he can say. He looks at Snape, finding himself completely without words, wanting to tell him  _thank  you_, and  _you're wonderful_ , and maybe even _please don't ever leave me_.

"Shut up, Potter," Snape says, but his mouth twitches to the side. Pleased.

"You're infuriating," Harry throws back, hoarse but laughing.

"And you're a joy."

When they arrive at the Burrow they are greeted by a chorus of grinning red-heads. Hermione is wrapped up in a duvet on Molly’s chair, so Harry goes to greet her first.

“Top heavy?” He asks, and she snarls at him.

“I’ve been having contractions for days, I’m exhausted.”

“Shouldn’t you be at St. Mungo’s?”

“They kicked us out,” she eyes Ron from across the room. “Taught me the spell to see if I’m ready.”

“And?”

She casts a spell with a fluid motion. “Halfway there.”

“Oh love,” he says, kissing her cheek again, when he notices the tears in her eyes. “You’ll meet her soon, let her be safe and warm a bit longer.”

“I’m so sick of it, Harry,” she whines, “it was supposed to be over last week. I'm _sore_.”

Harry kneels down next to her and looks at her for permission. She nods, so he puts his hands on her stomach. The baby is quiet now, even though it was kicking wildly a few weeks back. Hermione had told him then that she’d quiet right before birth, too big to move anymore.

“Hey,” he tells Hermione's stomach. “Your mum and dad want to meet you, and so do I. There’s Christmas presents waiting for you, and a bedroom, and so many hugs and kisses.”

He sits back, and Hermione casts the spell again. A little smile breaks her whole face open. “That helped! If you could do it forty-two more times right now I’d be eternally grateful.”

Harry laughs and gets up, kisses her again and goes to greet the other Weasleys.  

Snape spends most of the afternoon playing chess with Ron, then with Charlie, then with Ginny and George and Percy. He only loses to Ron. Everyone is spread around the house in the usual chaotic way since the family officially became too large for the table. Which means Harry is in the kitchen when he hears a shout from the living room.

“HARRY!” He runs right over, and sees Ron supporting Hermione, who is standing in the middle of the room, her pretty blue dress soaking wet.

“Is this it?” He asks, and they both nod at him.

“Go,” he hears Snape say, “I’ll stay here with Teddy.”

Harry grabs Hermione’s other arm and together with Ron they get her to St. Mungos. It all feels like it’s going incredibly fast, with Healers running in and out, Harry holding one of Hermione’s hands the whole time, Ron going back and forth between Hermione and everything else that needs to be done.

Rose comes, and she is beautiful. Harry enlarges the bed and the four of them sit in it together for a good thirty minutes just staring at the pink little thing nursing from Hermione.

“We should probably tell someone,” Harry says eventually, when Hermione’s head is resting on his shoulder and Ron is counting his daughter’s fingers and toes over and over again. His voice sounds like he spent hours crying, raw and unnatural.

“I’ll do your parents,” Ron says, “your mum’ll be pissed that she wasn’t here.”

“I’ll do the Weasleys,” Harry decides. But he waits for Ron to come back so Hermione isn’t alone, holding his goddaughter carefully as if she might break. Hermione drifts in and out of sleep, but wakes up enough at some point to turn deep brown eyes to him.

“Thank you for being here,” she says.

“Thank you for letting me be here,” Harry whispers, and now the tears are coming.

“You’re a part of us,” she promises, and falls asleep again.

“Rose,” Harry whispers. “Rose, I promise I’ll protect you. I love you so much already.”

Ron comes back, the Grangers are in the car and on their way. Harry hands him back the baby and Floos on to the Burrow. He doesn’t realize how late it is until he steps into the quiet sitting room. It's dark out. Everyone is anxiously staring at him, although Teddy is sprawled out over Snape and looks to be fast asleep. Snape’s hair is black, he’s not in a Weasley sweater, and still he fits in with the line of pale tired faces like he was born in the Burrow. Harry has a moment of realization that makes him stumble his way out the fireplace. He can’t tear his eyes away from Snape. Whose hand is wrapped protectively around Teddy’s head, who stayed at the Burrow because he wanted to be a part of this, who is achingly and desperately beautiful. He loves him.

“Harry?” Arthur asks, and Harry notices everyone else is staring at him too.

“A girl,” he answers, standing up straight, smiling. “Rose.”

All the Weasleys stand up as one and cheer, clap each other on the shoulder, Molly rushes over to hug him tight as ever.

“Come on,” Harry decides, “they’re expecting us.”

One-by-one, the Weasleys disappear through the Floo, until it’s just Harry and Snape, Teddy still asleep and held, sitting next to each other in the empty Burrow.

“Do you not wish to go?” Snape asks, “I can take him home.”

“We’ll go tomorrow. So Teddy can meet her too.”

Harry lets his head fall onto Snape’s shoulder and feels him stiffen, then relax.

“Does it ever make you jealous?” Snape asks, soft as anything. And Harry’s eyes tear up again.

“Desperately,” Harry promises, tears leaking down his face. To have a child of your own, a baby you grew, a family to cheer you on as you do it. A family that looks like you.

“Do you know why I kept those stupid glasses for so long?” Harry asks, “even after you invented that eye-correcting potion?”

“To look like someone,” Snape whispers. And it’s true. Harry’s always known Snape would get it. And he does.


	7. Diagon Alley 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One-by-one, the Weasleys disappear through the Floo, until it’s just Harry and Snape, Teddy still asleep and held, sitting next to each other in the empty Burrow.
> 
> “Do you not wish to go?” Snape asks, “I can take him home.”
> 
> “We’ll go tomorrow. So Teddy can meet her too.”
> 
> Harry lets his head fall onto Snape’s shoulder and feels him stiffen, then relax.
> 
> “Does it ever make you jealous?” Snape asks, soft as anything. And Harry’s eyes tear up again.
> 
> “Desperately,” Harry promises, tears leaking down his face. To have a child of your own, a baby you grew, a family to cheer you on as you do it. A family that looks like you.
> 
> “Do you know why I kept those stupid glasses for so long?” Harry asks, “even after you invented that eye-correcting potion?”
> 
> “To look like someone,” Snape whispers. And it’s true. Harry’s always known Snape would get it. And he does."

The next morning, they take an  _extremely_  excited Teddy to meet Rose. Hermione is home at their apartment on Diagon Alley, and settled in on the sofa, feeding Rose, when they arrive.

“Hey Teddy,” Ron says, “can you help me with something?”

They disappear out the door together and Harry gets handed the baby while Snape sits down in one of the armchairs. Rose sleeps while Hermione chats, and Harry drinks in every word of family and recovery and home. Snape just stares at the baby.

“Harry,” Teddy whispers when he comes back. “Ron told me how to hold the baby can I try it?” He smells of outside and Harry suspects Ron had him burn off some energy. The suspicion is confirmed when Ron winks at him.

“Why don’t you sit on the sofa next to Ron, and he can help you?” Harry suggests, passing the baby back to her dad. They get settled and Teddy is perfectly still as he holds Rose, supporting her neck with his arm and a strategically placed pillow. He looks to Snape, then to Harry, an expression of actual rapture on his face.

“You alright?” Harry whispers, and Teddy nods, looks back at the baby. Traces her face with his hand, pets her hair softly. She grabs his finger in her little fist and makes a smacking noise, and Teddy exhales so slowly, so gently.  Harry feels his nose clog before he notices his eyes have filled with tears, and so he excuses himself to the kitchen. Sets out to make all of them some tea. Hermione – bless her – joins him.

“Too much?”

He nods, “Earl Grey?”

“Yeah, thank you.” She hops onto the countertop with only slightly less grace than she usually has. “If you want one,” she offers, “I’ve a fully functioning baby-box and Muggles are getting smarter every day. Healers say to wait a few months of course, but I really do mean it.”

“Oh, Hermione,” Harry whines, and he crowds into her, lets her hug him. "You can't just go around offering your uterus to unsuspecting gays," he cries, and she hangs on tighter. When he looks up she’s crying too, so he kisses her face to get rid of the tears.

“Oi,” Ron says, behind them. “Kissing my wife?”

“Mate you sound rough too,” Harry looks at him, Ron’s eyes are red.

“It’s the baby hormones,” he nods, “Hermione is just releasing them into the air like it’s nothing. Everyone that comes here gets weepy.”

Hermione kicks at him, but he’s too far away to reach and they all laugh. Harry lets his head fall onto her shoulder again.

“You good?” He asks Ron, after giving Hermione one last kiss on her cheek. Ron nods but he looks tired and worn, so Harry hugs him. “You’ve made a fine baby,” he promises.

“You need to get back in there,” Ron says, after squeezing him back, “quietly though. And bring your camera.”

Harry lifts an eyebrow but does as he’s told, fishing his camera out of his pocket before walking into the living room. It takes his breath away.

Snape is sitting in the same chair, with Teddy in his lap and Rose in his arm. His free arm is wrapped around Teddy and holding a book, and he’s reading to them both about a pirate called Blackbeard.

“Teddy,” he nudges, “turn the page.”

Teddy sits up a little, he was clearly about to fall asleep, and turns the page. Harry takes three pictures before Teddy and Snape notice him and look up. Teddy smiles at him before going back to petting the baby’s hair, but Snape stares.

“I’ll get you a copy,” Harry promises, and Snape nods.

“Let’s finish the book another time,” he tells Teddy.

“When we come back to see the baby?”

“Yeah,” Harry gets closer so he can push Teddy’s hair behind his ear. “Did your arms get tired?”

“Hm-hm,” Teddy hums, leaning his head against Snape’s shoulder. “She smells really nice.”

At dinner that night, Teddy seems to be thinking something over. He’s distracted from eating by it so Harry prods him with his foot under the table.

“What’s wrong? Teddy?”

“Well I want to tell my class about Rose,” he says, “when the hols are over.”

“I think that’s a nice idea, you can tell them you held her.”

“Yeah,” he says, “is she family?”

“Of course,” Snape says before Harry can even open his mouth. “Grandma Molly is her grandma too.”

“Oh,” Teddy grins, mighty pleased. “So she’d be my... cousin.”

“Yes.” Harry agrees, but he stares at Snape.

“Apologies if that was out of line,” Snape says, when they’ve tucked Teddy in.

“It wasn’t,” Harry answers, handing him a glass of wine. “Although it’s interesting to see how you view the family dynamics.”

“Well it’s a bit of a patchwork situation,” Snape admits, “but I’ll be the first to admit he could do worse than have Molly for a grandmother.”

Harry grins and leans back into his chair, “does that make her your mother-in-law?”

He expected Snape to laugh, or maybe get angry, and he definitely wouldn’t have said it if he’d known it’d nearly kill Snape, but that is what happens. Snape inhales his wine and has a spectacular coughing fit that has Harry patting his back and all three of the house-elves appear with a glass of water, looking distressed.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says when Snape’s had some water and the elves have disappeared. Snape is still looking a little pink, but he’s breathing normally again. Harry is sitting on the coffee table in front of him feeling guilty. “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Snape is still wheezing a little. “It was funny. I just – inhaled at the wrong moment.”

“Oh good,” Harry slumps a little. Gets a funny look from Snape for his trouble. “What?”

“Get out of my personal space, Potter,” Snape demands, but it doesn’t sound angry, so Harry pats him on the knee before getting back to his own chair.

“Does your neck still bother you?” Harry asks, after thinking it over for a bit.

“What?”

“Well that snake did a fair number on you,” Harry shrugs, “and coughing through the scar tissue can’t be nice.”

“I was rescued by a  _phoenix_ , Potter. I don’t have scar tissue. Am I misremembering your personal experience?”

Hah. That’s true, he doesn’t have a scar from the basilisk. “No, you’re right. So, your skin’s smooth and unblemished under all those robes?”

His tone is light and teasing but it gets Snape coughing and blushing again. Although at least half the blush is probably from the realization that Harry definitely didn’t buy his earlier excuses. Inhaled at the wrong moment, yeah right.

“Am I too much?” He asks, willing to back down.

“Absolutely,” Snape drawls, and Harry might finally be learning to read him, because it sounds... teasing.


	8. Holloway Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Does your neck still bother you?” Harry asks, after thinking it over for a bit.
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Well that snake did a fair number on you,” Harry shrugs, “and coughing through the scar tissue can’t be nice.”
> 
> “I was rescued by a phoenix, Potter. I don’t have scar tissue. Am I misremembering your personal experience?”
> 
> Hah. That’s true, he doesn’t have a scar from the basilisk. “No, you’re right. So, your skin’s smooth and unblemished under all those robes?”
> 
> His tone is light and teasing but it gets Snape coughing and blushing again. Although at least half the blush is probably from the realization that Harry definitely didn’t buy his earlier excuses. Inhaled at the wrong moment, yeah right.
> 
> “Am I too much?” He asks, willing to back down.
> 
> “Absolutely,” Snape drawls, and Harry might finally be learning to read him, because it sounds... teasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! From my holiday and into writing. Apologies for the wait, hope you'll find it worth it. I have another chapter mostly written so I should be getting back into regular updates easily. Thank you to everyone sticking around!

Snape doesn’t respond to being called down, Teddy is sitting at the table eyeing the steaming pots hungrily, and even the elves are getting impatient. It’s now ten minutes past when they normally eat, and twenty minutes after they first called him down, so Harry decides Snape must’ve gotten caught up in something. He runs up the stairs two steps at a time, and knocks on the door, panting a little. Nothing. Knocks again, louder this time.

“Teddy?” Snape says, loud but not angry, so Harry cracks the door open a little.

“No, just me,” he says.

“Out.” Snape does sound angry now, “leave.”

Harry cracks the door open a little further and steps through, “it’s just that it’s dinner time and –”

Snape is sitting in the chair in front of his fire, wearing what looks like an extremely ratty bathrobe over black leggings and a tight black long-sleeved shirt. His whole face is contorted in anger. “OUT!”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, worried about the crackle of energy in the air, and then he ducks before even noticing that he was going to. The heavy crystal glass shatters on the wall above his head – where his head was just a second ago. It rains glass and Harry overbalances in his crouch and ends up putting his hand down on a particularly pointy pile.

“Fuck,” he sighs, using his left hand to point at the bits of glass. “ _Reparo_.”

The glass mends itself, the blood disappears from the floor with a wandless _Evanesco_ , but his wand hand is still cut and bleeding. He finally looks up to see Snape standing in the middle of the room, looking at him wild and frightened, his wand loosely held in one hand. If Harry’s hand hadn’t been bleeding he would’ve gotten his own wand out and disarmed Snape, just because he’s feeling oddly threatened. He’s still on the floor, and decides that between attacking and running away, the latter is definitely preferable in this situation. Harry gets up from the floor by hanging on to the doorpost, staggering and a little dizzy, and closes the door with his good hand. When he’s out in the hallway, he realizes he’s panting.

“Albert?”

Albert appears, fixes his hand with less than a thought, and looks at Harry for further instruction. “Just bring him his dinner,” Harry sighs. He passes by his own room to change his bloody clothes on the way down, and sits down with Teddy soon.

“Where’s he?” Teddy frowns at him.

“Not feeling well, love,” Harry gets Teddy a healthy serving of the dinner the elves prepared. “I think he’ll be off to bed now, you can talk to him in the morning if you wish.”

Harry makes it through the steps of the evening by routine, feeling bad for being distracted.

“It’s alright if you’re not feeling well,” Teddy tells him gently, when he’s lost track of the story three times and now Harry wants to cry. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

“You’re a sweetheart,” he promises, “can I read you a story I know a bit better?”

Teddy agrees and they read a short story together, about hamsters, with less enthusiasm than Harry normally tries to put into it, but then Teddy’s always been forgiving.

 

Harry’s sitting in front of the fire with his second glass of Firewhisky when he hears a door upstairs click. No footsteps follow, so it’s probably Snape.

A few minutes later the door to the sitting room creaks open. It takes Harry by surprise, he’d already forgotten that Snape was on his way. What took him so long?

“May I come in?” Snape says, quiet, his jaw tight.

Harry looks him up and down. He’s put his robes back on, but he still looks scared.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Harry says. “Close the door?”

Snape walks in, closes the door with two hands. Slow and gentle. Walks over to the carpet in front of the fire, close enough that Harry can see him well, far enough that he couldn’t reach him if he got up now.

“I... apologize,” Snape starts. He looks like he wants to say more, for a second, then looks away again. Harry is still deciding on what to say to that from all the things that are swerving around his head, when Snape steps in really close and picks up his hand, examines it front and back. Visibly relaxes when he sees Harry’s hand is completely healed.

“Elf Magic,” Harry tells him, “good stuff.”

Snape looks at him, he looks worn and somehow younger than Harry’s ever seen him.

“That doesn’t make it alright, I’d rather have permanent scars from an accident,” Harry continues, and Snape’s expression shuts down, his mouth tight, his eyes down. He’s still holding Harry’s hand. “You know where I got those reflexes, better than anyone else, and you know you can’t do that.”

Snape’s knees buckle a little so Harry squeezes the hand that’s holding his. Tries to steady him.

“I don’t –” raspy voice, a shiver, “I don’t want to be like that.”

“No,” Harry says, as soft as he can. “I know.”

Snape looks at him again and now his knees buckle properly, but Harry was expecting that, so he guides Snape to the floor, where he sits on the carpet in front of Harry’s chair. Their hands are still clasped together.

“When is the last time you ate?” Harry asks, pushing Snape’s hair behind his shoulder so he can see his face. Snape just shakes his head.

“Noddy,” he tells the empty room. She’s the one that’s best at staying invisible. “Some soup maybe? Tea for both of us. You’re a star.”

Snape turns pleading eyes to him, “I don’t want to be like that.”

“If I thought for a single second that it wasn’t something only I bring out in you and that you’re working on anyway, you would’ve been out on your arse a long time ago.”

A snort. “That’s reassuring.”

Harry squeezes Snape’s hand in both of his hands now. “Don’t throw things at my head. Don’t hurt me. Don’t try to hurt me. I’ll fight back.”

“I know.”

Deep breath. “I’m very sorry for entering your room like that, I should’ve respected your space. I won’t come in without being invited again.”

“It’s your house,” Snape shrugs, and Harry thinks this might be the wrong time to tell him that it isn’t. His rearranging of the wards was legally binding and even if it hadn’t been, Harry sorted out the paperwork weeks ago.

“I don’t want to invade your privacy ever,” Harry promises. “And I know how hard we’re both working to not be like – like the people who raised us.”

Snape’s mouth twitches at that. Wry. “Yet somehow here I am.”

“Hey,” Harry tugs on Snape’s hand and waits for him to look up. “I forgive you.” 

Snape just shakes his head, “you don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah I do,” Harry feels unbalanced in the conversation, like the stakes are higher than he expected them to be. “I know what happened. I know how I feel. I forgive you.”

“That means something else to you than it does to me.”

“Which doesn’t affect what I’m saying at all,” Harry feels the need to point out. “What does forgiveness mean to you?”

“Forgiveness is granted when the offender did something without meaning to, and will not do it again.”

Harry has to think on that for a bit. As if on cue, another door sounds, this time followed by bare feet on the stairs.

“Hey Teddy,” he says, when Teddy comes in. “Come sit with us.”

Teddy walks over to Snape and sits down in his lap. Snape kisses his forehead, doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand.

“I am sorry for missing dinner,” Snape tells him, and Teddy shrugs.

“That’s alright. Harry said you weren’t feeling well and Noddy is on her way up.”

“Did you ask her for hot chocolate?” Harry asks, pulling Teddy’s ear a little. Teddy beams up at him and nods.

“Why are you awake?” Snape looks at Teddy intently. “Did Harry read your story badly?”

Harry snorts, and both Teddy and Snape look at him, but Teddy doesn’t rat him out.

“I dreamed about being a wolf, and I turned back by myself but then I wanted hot chocolate.”

“Well done,” Snape praises, and then Noddy arrives with a big tray, so Harry shoes all of them out of the way so they can sit on the sofa. Snape finishes the bowl of soup and the bread Noddy brought up, and Teddy falls asleep between them before he’s even tried the hot chocolate.

“I get the feeling he’d be happiest if we all just moved into the upstairs bedroom together,” Harry jokes, and Snape looks at him, his mouth twitching up a little.

“Sharing a bed every night with three people would get very old, very fast, I should think.”

“Probably,” Harry lies. He’d love nothing more.

 

After, when Snape has picked Teddy up to carry him back upstairs, one last look over his shoulder on his way out. Uncanny black eyes seeing all the way through him. After some more tea. Harry finally writes the letter he’s been meaning to. Professor Singh taught him about PTSD, and Harry wasn’t really interested in anything but children at that point, but now he wants to know. He uses the typewriter, asks his owl to drop it into a mailbox after he’s added a stamp and the address on the front. Settles in for the wait even though Muggle mail takes days and professor Singh is probably very busy. It’s far past his normal bedtime when he makes it to bed.

 

The next morning he wakes much earlier than he normally does from a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he croaks, feeling rather groggy and praying it’s Teddy looking for a cuddle. It’s not. Snape stands in the door opening looking messy and angry. “No yelling before breakfast,” Harry looks up and waits for Snape to nod. “Come on in then.”

Snape sits down on the chair by the window and Harry rearranges his pillows so he can lean back against the headboard.

“Snape,” Harry starts, but he shuts up when he sees the look on his face. Like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He lets his own face soften, brings his voice down. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Last night’s conversation,” Snape tells the floor. He’s wrapped up so tight in his robes, buttoned all the way up and down. His shoulder twitches as if to resettle his burden. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

“Just because forgiveness is strange and complicated,” Harry tries to sound reassuring and isn’t sure he’s all the way successful by the defiant look in Snape’s eyes. “Doesn’t mean it’s unattainable. Or undeserved. It’s my decision.”

“You understand nothing,” Snape hisses, leaning forward. Seems like that was the wrong thing to say then.

“This is the way to yelling,” Harry explains, more patiently than he feels, “and we said no yelling before breakfast.”

“You are not the one to bestow favours upon me,” Snape counters, his voice dangerous and low, his jaw tight.

“That’s not fair,” Harry throws back, a _favour_ is not what he was going for and he knows that Snape knows that.

“Life’s not fair.”

At that Harry rolls his eyes, “of course it fucking isn’t. None of us would be here if it was. You get to choose to be fair, though. Life didn’t take that option from you. Life isn’t kind either, and it definitely doesn’t read bedtime stories.”

“Potter the Philosopher,” Snape drawls, “did they teach you that at Muggle school? Did you want to make a Gryffindor hand-holding circle and sing our praises to the overlords of Fairness and Kindness and Bravery?”

“Fucking hell,” Harry leans back. Snape opens his mouth and Harry holds up a hand to stop him. Turns his whole body so he can see him better. “I will say this once. Take it all out on me, go ahead. Better me than Teddy.”

“Martyr – ” Snape drawls and Harry interrupts him with a firm _shh_ , which seems to surprise Snape into silence.

“You don’t get to be abusive to me, _that_ is what’s not fair. I will respect your space, I will respect your privacy. I will not tiptoe around my home worried I might set you off. I want friendship and comfort and I will offer the same. But what comes to me will come back to you and I need you to remember that in your hostility and your cruelty,” deep breath, oxygen to your toes, “all I feel is pity for someone who cannot trust what they are seeing with their own two eyes.”

Snape blinks at him. Still listening, good.

“Teddy is our family, I am your family, and I will not leave.” Snape looks away now, out the window, and Harry takes another deep breath for his parting shot. It’s shuddering and after this there will be tears but it needs to be said, “you don’t want to be like your dad, like your parents, and you do so well with Teddy. But I am your family too, and you are hurting me.”

Snape bolts, and Harry cries. Deep heaving breaths, curled around his pillow, until it’s time to get up and go to work. They avoid each other’s eyes for a day or two, until Teddy’s happy chatter and their daily lives force them back to normalcy. Or whatever passes for normalcy when Snape seems to have suddenly acquired the ability to bite his tongue.


	9. The Second Floor Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Teddy is our family, I am your family, and I will not leave.” Snape looks away now, out the window, and Harry takes another deep breath for his parting shot. It’s shuddering and after this there will be tears but it needs to be said, “you don’t want to be like your dad, like your parents, and you do so well with Teddy. But I am your family too, and you are hurting me.”
> 
> Snape bolts, and Harry cries. Deep heaving breaths, curled around his pillow, until it’s time to get up and go to work. They avoid each other’s eyes for a day or two, until Teddy’s happy chatter and their daily lives force them back to normalcy. Or whatever passes for normalcy when Snape seems to have suddenly acquired the ability to bite his tongue.

Teddy is the first one to get sick. It’s not the first time he’s a bit under the weather, they’ve all had a cold by now, but Teddy gets the flu, probably from school. After three days of near-constant vomiting and sleepless nights and a fever that has Harry crying in Molly’s lap with worry, Teddy bounces back scary fast. One day he’s pale and sweating and Harry and Snape are taking turns dripping water into his mouth, sip by sip, the next day he’s having an enormous breakfast in the kitchen and asking to go to the zoo. Harry and Snape knew that it was just a matter of time before they’d get sick too, of course, but they didn’t expect it to be so horrible.

Snape starts. While Teddy is having his first full meal in days, Snape throws up in his bathroom, and Harry rushes to his side.

“Fuck off, Potter,” has a strange echo when it’s spoken into the toilet bowl.

“You’re going to do that cat thing where you hide in the forest until you die?” Harry asks mildly, tying Snape’s hair back for him all the same. Snape just groans so Harry promises him soup and a potion for his pain if he gets into his pyjamas by himself.

They both laugh at Harry’s Teddy-tone, but it sets Snape off again with the vomiting, so Harry rushes off to get him something for it.

“Pepper-Up didn’t work for Teddy, why would it work for me?”

“Nasty Muggle germs,” Harry complains, then looks up to wink at Snape. “Just in case your sinuses get clogged, might as well be able to breathe.”

The potion helps for twenty-minute stretches, and Snape looks like he might cry the first time Harry tells him that based on his weight and height he can’t have more than three a day and shouldn’t they space it out?

After two days of taking care of Snape and dealing with a bored Teddy, Harry decides Teddy’s earned a couple of days with grandma Molly, and as he’s packing the bags, he notices his muscles feel achy. Oh no.

 

“Hey,” Harry croaks, when he shuffles into Snape’s room with another bowl of clear soup and a stack of rice crackers. “Molly’s picked Teddy up, he’ll be staying there until we’re better.”

“We?” Snape is huddled deep under the covers but sticks his head out a little.

“Yeah,” Harry takes a rattling breath. “The flu fucking sucks.”

“Language, Mr. Potter,” Snape mumbles, but the effect is totally ruined by the little sniffle at the end. That and Snape’s hair which apparently also defies gravity after days in bed.

“I’m going to open a window, it smells like you died.”

“Rude,” Snape pushes himself up to sitting. “I showered like two hours ago and the elves changed my sheets as I was doing it.”

“Didn’t bother airing out the room though,” Harry draws his bathrobe around himself closer. He’s wearing two of Molly’s sweaters and a pair of socks Hermione made him something like a decade ago. He can’t seem to be able to keep himself warm and his whole body hurts. He sits down around where Snape’s feet probably are and hands Snape the bowl. He misses the heat in his hands immediately and a fresh wave of desperation hits him. How can he make it through days of this?

“You’re disgusting,” he decides, staring at the pile of tissues on the floor.

“I literally don’t have the energy to yell at you,” Snape decides, “and you know what happens to my magic when I’m sick.”

Harry does know, they’ve lost three tea-towels and a carpet to Snape’s tendency to set things on fire when he sneezes. After the carpet, he made Snape fire-proof as much of the house as possible.

“Evanesco,” Harry tells the tissues, and they shuffle around lazily. They definitely don’t disappear. The disappointment at their lack of cooperation hits him so hard he feels his shoulders slump but Snape laughs until tears are streaming down his face, and then he needs even more tissues. When that mess has been cleaned up, he gets back to finishing his soup. Harry is leaning against one of the bedposts, trying not to think about how much work there will be to do when he’s finally done dying.

“What are you still doing here?” Snape whines, and Harry opens his eyes to the too-bright room.

“Enjoying your scintillating company of course,” he drawls, or tries to. It’s a little more nasal than it usually would be. Snape just grunts. “Is there anything else you need?”

Snape shakes his head no, slowly as they do everything these days. Between the exhaustion and the flu Harry’s not felt anything approaching comfortable in a while. It’s hard to remember a time where they weren’t extremely sick. Snape doesn’t look at Harry though, stares off to the side instead.

“Something you want?” Harry probes, leaning forward a little.

“I’ve taken care of myself for a long time,” Snape finally decides. “I don’t need anything.”

It’s a strange thing to say and it doesn’t answer Harry’s second question at all.

“Let me,” Harry begs. “What is it that’s on your mind.”

Snape finally looks at him again, his eyes oddly bright. “It’d be cruel to say.”

“And that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Harry throws back before he can help himself. It gets Snape laughing, but the tears that are streaming down his face don’t feel happy. Harry’s face is wet too, and damn his stupid clogged nose for being shit at draining his stupid leaking eyes.

“It is, at that,” Snape admits, his voice all raw and wet. “I’ll counter it so you don’t get used to it: My mum used to rub my feet. She had this oil for it. When things were really crap, and I was sick and I couldn’t sleep and da...” He swallows. Snape had a mum who used to rub his feet.

“She’d bring out the foot-massage oil,” Harry finishes for him. “Albert.”

Albert pops out right in front of them, handing over lavender-almond oil from Harry’s bathroom with a little bow before disappearing again.

“No,” Snape whispers.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” Harry says, looking right at him. Trying to make Snape believe it too.

“You really mean that,” Snape lets his head fall back against the wall, and he pushes the duvet down far enough to pull his legs out. He has to use his hands to pick them up, the vomiting hurt his abs so badly Harry's had to help him in and out of the bed. He’s wearing black silk pyjama trousers and his ratty black bathrobe, as well as extremely fluffy woollen socks. Harry screws off the cap and pours some oil over his hands rubbing them together so they’ll be warmer, before taking Snape’s socks off. He’s a little careful about not getting the oil everywhere, but settles pale slim feet in his lap regardless. Adds more oil.

“Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he whispers, before holding onto bony ankles, working his way down. Pulling gently on his toes. Letting his hands warm with the movement and his magic warm Snape's feet. When he presses his thumbs into the arch of Snape’s left foot, a little noise escapes that has him looking up. He feels the familiar fog of having been really focused on something. “Bad?”

Snape shakes no, he’s blushing and his mouth looks extremely unhappy.

“Should I stop?”

“Please no,” Snape says, and he doesn’t look relaxed but Harry’ll take his word for it.

He alternates between left and right, arches and heels, toes and in-between-toes, until he’s shivering and stiff with muscle ache. His teeth clatter even when he’s biting down on them and Snape pulls his feet out of Harry’s lap in surprise. Pulls a face at the pain.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Harry promises, “’m just a little cold.”

“For fucks sake,” Snape pulls his socks back on and closes the now mostly-empty bottle of oil. Sets it on the nightstand. “Get in here,” he hears Snape say, and his body obeys without question. Harry is under the covers before he knows it.

“I’m fine,” he protests, and Snape smiles at him. A proper smile, like the ones Teddy gets.

“You’re a stubborn little shit, Potter.”

“Think we’re intimate enough now for a Harry maybe?” Harry snarks back, and dammit if it’s not all he’s ever wanted. He knows it shows on his face, feels the raw need make tears drip over his nose and into the pillow. Sniffles.

“Of course,” Snape promises, “how long have you been sitting on that?”

“Ages,” Harry cries, and he lets his whole body fall forward, find comfort in Snape. Who wraps an arm around Harry while he tries to figure out breathing and crying at the same time. It’s hard work and soon he has to sit up and stop the crying or faint, and the warm hand rubbing at his lower back helps.

“Do you wish to blame this on a combination of illness and potions?” Snape asks, calm and steady.

“I don’t need an out,” Harry turns his head to look up. He knows he looks awful, puffy and blotched and sick and cold. “I trust you.”

“Severus,” Snape says and when Harry finally processes what he means it starts the crying again. “Oh,” Snape sounds so surprised it would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so busy crying. “Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you further.”

“You’re not,” Harry tries to explain, which only serves to give him the hiccoughs. “I’m the happiest I’ve – ever been. Both of you make my life – fuck – so full.”

Snape’s – Severus’ – expression is full of warmth and wonder until Harry hiccoughs again and he grins madly. He turns away to rummage for a potion, and holds it out to Harry who finishes it without even looking. The tightness in his chest eases, and he knows the hiccoughs are gone.

“Let’s try to sleep,” Snape decides, and they both go through the ritual of Pepper-Up, blowing their noses, taking a potion for the pain, blowing their noses again, having some water, lying down. Harry matches his breathing to Severus’ and feels himself relax. Even if he still feels exposed and revealed and naked. He’s safe.

 

They spend the rest of the day in bed together, doing a lot of sleeping and a small amount of reading. Harry helps Severus walk through the room a bit to keep his muscles going, and they chat about inviting some of the authors of the books they’ve read to the UK.

“They could stay with us,” Harry suggests, “I’m not sure what else we can offer, in the way of compensation, but if we don’t write and ask we’ll really never know.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Severus croaks, steering them to the bathroom. He lets go of Harry’s arm when he gets to the doorway and looks back. He looks sore and in pain and shivers a little. The fever makes his cheeks pink and flushed. He moves carefully and stiffly and Harry misses his usual grace. Feels bad for being grateful for the flu. Taking care of Teddy and now each other has brought them closer than he thought possible.

 

When Harry is finally feeling better, after four days of mostly lying about and trying not to move too much, Severus is still ill.

“Why aren’t you getting better?” Harry asks, sitting up next to Severus in bed. Only the top of his head is showing, long black hair is sticking out. Severus shivers and looks up. Deep black eyes.

“I’m ancient.” He complains, nose still stuffy.

“Should we be worried?” Harry reaches out slowly and touches cold fingers to Snape’s forehead. The fever seems mostly gone.

“I don’t think so. Unless you were planning on kicking me out? I'm not sure I'd survive being homeless in my current condition.”

Harry laughs at that. “Sure, now that you’re finally treating me like a person. That was my plan all along.”

An angry frown turns his way.

“Oh, Severus.” He can’t help but reach out and smooth down his hair. It feels soft so he pets it some more. “I’m only teasing.”

At that moment a knock sounds on the door, so Harry sits up again, “what is it?”

Teddy bursts in, running across the room to jump onto the bed between them. They all climb over each other in their rush to hug and take Teddy’s shoes off and get him between them under the blankets and are kissing his hair when Teddy starts pushing them away.

“Hey,” Harry complains, “we thought Molly had stolen you, let us enjoy seeing our child again please!”

Severus smiles at him over the top of Teddy’s head, and Teddy laughs as he swats their hands away. “I wasn’t stolen! Grandma Molly made special soup to make you better and I asked if I could come.”

“Special soup?” Severus’ voice still sounds rough and Teddy looks up in surprise.

“Yeah. Are you still sick?”

“I’m feeling alright,” Harry promises, “Severus should be fine soon. Do you want to come home?”

Teddy sighs and leans back, warm and alive and just happy to be with them. “Yes, please. I like it at The Burrow but I miss my room.”

“What about your dads?” Severus teases, and it fries Harry’s brain so thoroughly that he doesn’t hear anything else the rest of the day. He thinks maybe Molly fetches Teddy’s stuff, and there might have been chicken soup. _Dads, dads, dads,_ his mind sings as he lies in bed, Teddy between him and Severus, in the spare bedroom upstairs. It’s still the biggest bed even if Teddy isn’t due a change. Harry’s warm. He can hear them both breathing. He’s a dad.


	10. The Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“I’m feeling alright,” Harry promises, “Severus should be fine soon. Do you want to come home?”
> 
> Teddy sighs and leans back, warm and alive and just happy to be with them. “Yes, please. I like it at The Burrow but I miss my room.”
> 
> “What about your dads?” Severus teases, and it fries Harry’s brain so thoroughly that he doesn’t hear anything else the rest of the day. He thinks maybe Molly fetches Teddy’s stuff, and there might have been chicken soup. _Dads, dads, dads,_ his mind sings as he lies in bed, Teddy between him and Severus, in the spare bedroom upstairs. It’s still the biggest bed even if Teddy isn’t due a change. Harry’s warm. He can hear them both breathing. He’s a dad."

As it tends to go with good things, Teddy’s return is the first of three. When Severus and Harry wake up to Teddy kicking them in his sleep at far too early in the morning and go downstairs together, they notice two owls waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Dolly,” Harry greets before slumping down into his usual seat. Severus sits opposite him with a groan. “Could you make us some coffee?”

Dolly bows and gets to work, and Harry and Severus each reach for an owl. Harry reads his letter quickly and when he looks up to tell Severus the good news, Severus is already smiling at him.

“What?”

“A reply from the Canadians, it seems there is an expert who would be willing to visit us if we pay for the trip and her stay.”

“Perfect! Andromeda woke up.”

“Oh,” Severus slumps back into his chair, “do they know anything?”

“They suggest we visit today, without Teddy. She was scared and confused last night.”

“You go,” Severus suggests, “I’ll stay home with him, you can answer all her questions, and then we’ll see when we bring him along.”

 

When Harry gets to St. Mungo’s that afternoon, he walks quickly through now familiar halls and corridors to Andromeda’s room. He sees her through the door, sitting up in bed, crying into her tray of food.

“Oh dear,” Harry says, “the food can’t be that bad?”

“Harry!” Her hair is wild but she looks perfectly well besides, and he sets down his bags to come hug her. The tray clatters to the floor as she cries into his shoulder and he holds her tight until she calms down a little. Harry waves his wand to clean up as she catches her breath.

 “Harry, they say it’s been months.”

“It’s February,” Harry tells her, holding her hand. Her eyes fill again but she squares her shoulders.

“Tell me everything,” she demands, and suddenly she is all Noble and Ancient House of Black. Harry fishes around in his bags, setting her up with some of Molly’s special soup first.

“I swear you’ll feel better after you eat something,” he promises, and when she starts eating he takes out the drawing Teddy made. He’s drawn all her favourite things, the house they lived in, the garden behind the house, ice cream and cake. A big bright sun in the sky. “He’s been adopted by Severus Snape. None of the paperwork was done correctly, but at this point he is my godson and Severus Snape’s son. He’s doing well, in school and at home. What do you remember?”

“He cried,” she says, still trying to eat more, “I went to look for him. The Healers say he attacked me.”

“His first change,” Harry nods. “He’s a Werewolf, but not like Remus. We’re still trying to figure out what it all means exactly.”

Her eyes fill up and tears spill over her cheeks again. The look she throws Harry is completely helpless and lost.

“Can I bring him here?” Harry asks, and she nods. “We’ll be back, then. Saturday, alright?” She nods again, trying to clean her face and her nose and failing. Harry conjures a tissue and hands it to her. “There’s more soup in the bag, some warm clothes and books too.”

He’s pretty sure she’s not hearing him anymore when she curls up and pulls the duvet over. She’s asleep before Harry can tell her goodbye.

 

Teddy asks a million questions about Andromeda and what’s going to happen now, and Harry is emotionally drained by the time he’s sitting in front of the fire in the living room.

“Talk to me?” Severus sinks down into his own seat, clearly also tired.

“Was bedtime too much?” Shouldn’t have let him, Severus is still sick.

“No,” Severus stills him with a hand, “I’m alright. Tell me about Andromeda?”

“She cried the whole time. Apparently she can’t stay awake for more than half an hour at a time,” Harry rubs at his face. “I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow.”

“Make it half a day,” Severus advises, and when Harry looks up at him he shrugs, “stay until after lunch so you can deal with correspondence and see your colleagues, then come back and sleep until Teddy’s back from school.”

“Yeah,” Harry slumps back. “I think I’ll do that.”

Noddy arrives with tea and biscuits and tells them she’ll be off to bed, and Harry and Severus end up sitting on the sofa together, tea and biscuits in hand.

“I told her we’d visit on Saturday, gives her a few days to readjust. I also left her books and things, and that letter you wrote.” He’s not going to pry, he won’t.

“I explained my intentions.” Severus says, smiling when he sees the look on Harry’s face. “It’s not a secret, I just have no idea what she thinks of me.”

“Clever,” Harry sets his empty cup down and wriggle until he’s leaning against the side of the sofa. “Did you want to write that letter to the Canadians now?”

“Sure,” Severus leans against the opposite end, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, and summons parchment and ink. “Dear... Miss... Pinet...” He starts, and Harry leans forward to grab his ankle, projecting his movements so he doesn’t startle Severus. Severus looks up and frowns, but lets Harry take his foot, take off his sock, and summon the lavender-scented oil.

Harry lets his thoughts drift as Severus talks out loud and writes at the same time, pressing his thumb into the arches of bony feet, warming up cold toes by rubbing them over and over. He switches back and forth between left and right to make sure he doesn’t neglect one foot too much, and thinks of Andromeda, of how long it’ll take before she can leave St. Mungos, how much longer until she will be comfortable living by herself again. What it will be like for Teddy to see her.

 

That night is the first time Harry forgets to put up Silencing Charms in months. It’s also the first time he’s had a nightmare in weeks, which makes it extra confusing to find Severus standing next to his bed at three in the morning.

“Are you awake?”

“Yes,” Harry pants, trying to think about something other than the stench of blood and fear that somehow exists in some primal part of his brain. “I’m – Gods I am so sorry.”

Severus steps closer, still away from the bed but close enough for Harry to make out more details in the dark without glasses. He’s wearing only a long nightshirt. His feet are bare, his hair is wild. His eyes are flicking across Harry’s face.

“You weren’t waking up,” he accuses, and Harry can tell he’s shaking now, so he sits up and reaches out to grab Severus’ hand. Ice cold.

“Have you been here long?” Severus just shivers, was probably going for a shrug or maybe a nod, but it gets lost entirely in how obviously he is freezing. “Get in here.”

Harry moves back a little, and Severus’ teeth chatter as he climbs between the sheets, stiff and awkward. “Do you – did you wish to talk?” Severus manages, finally, still sitting up with his arms wrapped around himself. “About it?”

“No,” Harry tugs on Severus’ elbow a little, tries to get him to lie down. The fabric of the nightshirt really is very thin. “Do you need a sweater?”

Severus looks down at himself and seems actively surprised to be wearing only one layer and nothing that could possibly billow. He twitches like he might bolt and Harry hangs on to his elbow tighter. He knows Severus needs to get warm, and he knows that he won’t sleep again if he’s alone.

“Please.” _Don’t leave me._ He tries to swallow, not sure how to ask for this. “They’re. Less frequent now.” _Staystaystay_. “But I- It’s hard to sleep.”

“After,” Severus finishes for him, the look he gives Harry uncharacteristically warm and understanding. It makes Harry’s eyes prickle. His nose itches.

“Easier.” He buries himself under the covers and tugs at Severus some more. This time he follows. “If I’m not.” Deep breath. “If I’m not alone.”

Severus places a careful cold palm against his cheek and it’s a relief. He still feels feverish from the dream and sneaks his feet closer to Severus’ feet, knowing they’ll be cold. It grounds him, and they both sigh as they move closer. Harry’s arms are wrapped around Severus, his head against his chest, when Severus looks up. Their faces are so close that Harry can’t look back at him properly without getting extremely close to kissing. Which will probably lead to getting hexed half to death and they really were making progress. He settles for resting his chin on Severus’ head instead.

“Harry,” Severus whispers against his throat. “Dammit.”

When Harry leans back to look at him, there are angry tears in his eyes. He’s trying to wriggle his arms free but Harry just wipes his cheeks for him. “What is it?”

“You trust me,” Severus says, like that’s all the information Harry could need.

“I do.”

Severus sniffles, clearly still pissed at himself, “I should trust you too.”

Now Harry really is lost. “Do you not?”

“No I do,” Severus whispers, and he buries his face against Harry’s chest again, so Harry lets his hand rest against the back of Severus’ head. Silky black hair. He smells like his shampoo and like comfort. Harry presses a kiss to the top of his head, assuming the conversation is over. “You’re so fucking kind.” Severus mutters.

“It’s because I like you,” Harry promises. “I’m not like this to everyone.”

“I remember,” Severus’ sounds muffled but they both laugh a little. “I shouldn’t have,” he starts. “I regret very much – ”

Harry pets his hair, waits for the words to come. Enjoys cold feet against his warm legs, a cold pinkie touching a bit of skin from where his shirt has ridden up on his back.

“I’m sorry,” Severus manages finally. “For all of it, for not seeing you, for not believing you. For the shouting. I caused you pain and I regret it.”

“Was any of it because you had to keep a cover?” Harry whispers, so low he’s not sure Severus will be able to hear.

“Most of it, at Hogwarts, but that’s not an excuse to – ”

“No,” Harry agrees, “but it helps.”

They’re quiet for a long time, and Harry thinks Severus might be done talking until he takes a deep breath. “On Fridays.”

Nothing else comes so Harry prods gently with his leg. “Tell me.”

“It’s a group of. We have dinner. They’re...”

“I assumed it has something to do with Shabbat,” Harry tries to help. Not sure if it’d be better to let Severus figure out his own words.

“It does. It’s... more than that.”

“You’re not obliged to tell me,” Harry promises. “If you can’t find the words, or need more time, or even if you never want to say.”

Severus breathes in deep and out shaky. “Alright.”

“Is it good?” Harry whispers, and he feels Severus nod.

“So good,” he promises, “I’ve been meaning to ask you to come sometimes.”

“I’d love that,” Harry kisses his head again. “Now sleep.”

 

They wake up in the morning because Teddy tries to sneak in with them, and make space for him between them like he was always supposed to be in their arms.

“Morning, love,” Harry mumbles.

“Morning,” Severus answers.

Teddy yawns, big and wide. “Morning dads.”

The quiet doesn’t last long of course, because Teddy needs to go to school and Harry has work and Severus decides he’s been sick long enough and tries to make a plan to deal with everything that has piled up. When Harry gets home after lunch, exhausted but glad he managed to start getting back into things, Severus is sitting in the library surrounded by parchment. He pushes his reading glasses up onto his head when Harry opens the door, then thinks better of himself and puts them down on the table.

“You’re still sick,” Harry says, sitting down on the arm of the chair Severus is in.

“I fear I no longer have time to be,” Severus sighs, “I have many orders, my stocks are getting extremely low, and there are some interesting commissions I really should do.”

“Get Dolly to help. I've seen her in the kitchen, she's smart and great with knives. I’ve also been told on many occasions that our household really doesn’t need more than one elf.”

“If you’re sure,” Severus mumbles, already distracted by his notes. He puts his glasses back on and goes to write something down, but Harry stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Have you eaten?”

The looks of confusion tells him the answer is no, so he herds Severus back to bed, gets him some chicken soup, and they spend the rest of the day arguing over what to do with Andromeda. It’s rather nice.


	11. St. John's Primary School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re still sick,” Harry says, sitting down on the arm of the chair Severus is in.
> 
> “I fear I no longer have time to be,” Severus sighs, “I have many orders, my stocks are getting extremely low, and there are some interesting commissions I really should do.”
> 
> “Get Dolly to help. I've seen her in the kitchen, she's smart and great with knives. I’ve also been told on many occasions that our household really doesn’t need more than one elf.”
> 
> “If you’re sure,” Severus mumbles, already distracted by his notes. He puts his glasses back on and goes to write something down, but Harry stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
> 
> “Have you eaten?”
> 
> The looks of confusion tells him the answer is no, so he herds Severus back to bed, gets him some chicken soup, and they spend the rest of the day arguing over what to do with Andromeda. It’s rather nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay. I'm still swamped at uni, but Christmas might come with time to write, and hopefully soon I'll have space for regular updates again. Thank you so much to everyone reading, commenting, and sticking with this story. You make it a joy <3

“Where do we pick her up again?” Teddy is tugging on Harry’s hand, pulling him through the corridors of St. Mungos. “And how is she a wolf? How did you find her?”

“Calm down,” Severus laughs. “Well see your grandmother Andromeda first, then we’ll talk about Miss Pinet visiting.”

They come up to the door of Andromeda’s room and find it already open. Teddy barrels straight through and onto the bed, all thoughts of werewolves forgotten, but Severus freezes in place so fast that Harry turns to him to help. His face is pale, his shoulders are straight. His eyes are carefully dark. Harry turns back to the room and realizes Andromeda wasn’t alone.

“Malfoys,” he greets, and both Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy nod at him stiffly. Harry turns back to Severus. “If you need anything.”

Snape gives him a sharp nod and Mrs. Malfoy follows him out the door. They close the door so Harry can’t hear what’s being said, and he’s left with a chattering Teddy acting like nothing’s wrong at all, and Draco sodding Malfoy.

“So,” he tries, sitting down in the chair Mrs. Malfoy was in. “What brings you here?”

Malfoy rolls his eyes, and at least that is familiar. “Visiting my aunt, Potter. Where did the child come from?”

Teddy is paying absolutely zero attention to them, and Andromeda is just cupping his face in her hands, smiling as wide as he’s ever seen her, so Harry decides it’s safe to focus on Malfoy. “Teddy, Tonks and Remus’ son. Andromeda was taking care of him.”

“Really?” Malfoy’s nose scrunches and it makes him look even pointier. “I had no idea.”

“I’m starting to think she kept him a bit of a secret,” Harry thinks out loud. “Anyway Severus and I are raising him now.”

Malfoy just shakes his head and they both watch Teddy blabber for a bit. He’s telling Andromeda about his classmates now.

“And... Snape?” Malfoy asks, carefully neutral, like he doesn’t really care.

“He adopted Teddy,” Harry turns to Malfoy and finds he can see right through him. Malfoy looks tired, big bags under his eyes, and the way his eyes flick back and forth between Andromeda and the door tell Harry he cares very much about what his mother and Severus are talking about. “We all live at the Black house these days. You’d be welcome for tea.”

Malfoy accepts in a rehearsed way that tells Harry he’s not really listening, and they turn to watch Andromeda and Teddy again.

When Andromeda tells Teddy that she’s feeling tired, Teddy agrees to lie down next to her, and they whisper at each other until Harry can tell Andromeda is drifting off. He waits until Andromeda is asleep to tap Teddy on the shoulder. Teddy comes into his arms willingly and Harry resettles his weight. Malfoy watches them the whole time, and ends up grabbing his cloak as well as his mother’s. The three of them leave the room quietly so as to not wake Andromeda, Teddy still hanging on to Harry. A ways down the hallway Mrs. Malfoy and Severus are talking softly. It looks friendly enough, but Severus’ shoulders are stiff, his left hand is twitching.

“Severus,” Harry calls, and deep black eyes turn to him. Harry motions with his head, and Severus says goodbye to Mrs. Malfoy with a touch to her arm. He nods at Malfoy as they pass each other in the hall, and kisses Teddy on his forehead when he reaches them.

“Shall I do it?” Harry offers, and Severus just nods. Holding Teddy tight and grabbing onto Severus’ arm, Harry Apparates the three of them home. As one, they trail up the stairs, to the library. They all settle on the floor in front of the fire, and thank the elves when they bring up some lunch.

“I’ll go first,” Severus offers, staring up at the ceiling. “Narcissa tells me she has been visiting Andromeda twice a week as long as she’s been there. She offered to take her in when she can leave St. Mungos, but Andromeda would prefer to go to her own home. She had no idea you were living with her, Teddy.”

“Grandma said her sister Cissa would come stay with her,” Teddy tells them and Severus hums his approval.

“That sounds like a good solution,” Harry thinks out loud. “That way she will be home but not alone, and we can visit back and forth whenever we want to.”

“Grandma also said I can tell you about living with her,” Teddy says and Severus frowns at the ceiling.

“Were you not supposed to before?”

“Not really,” Teddy explains, like this should have been obvious all along, “otherwise the people that killed my mum and dad and also my grandpa Ted might find out.”

“Is that something your grandma is very worried about?” Harry asks, careful not to pry but getting extremely curious about what might have happened to Andromeda.

“She cries a lot,” Teddy tells him, round eyes earnest. “When she sees the pictures, or when there are loud noises. Sometimes we hide upstairs but not very often.”

“PTSD?” Severus asks Harry, and Harry just shrugs. It’d be more surprising if the war hadn’t left Andromeda traumatized, really. He feels extra sorry that he didn’t visit Teddy more when he still lived with Andromeda. He should have... “Stop.”

Harry looks at Severus, who is shaking his head. “What?”

“You were a child too,” Severus tells him, and Harry supposes that is true.

“Do I have to live with her?” Teddy whispers, when all of them have been quiet for a bit. He’s sprawled out on the carpet between Harry and Severus, and when they exchange a look, Harry can tell Severus is scared.

“No.” Harry promises. “You don’t have to do anything. You may always live with us.”

“Forever?” Teddy turns to look up at Harry, and Harry feels his eyes fill, decides to let it show.

“Yes,” he says. “This is your home for as long as you want it to be. We will always be there for you.”

Teddy seems placated, and ends up falling asleep on the floor. Harry lies down next to him, and watches Severus follow their example from the corner of his eye. He has to swallow at least three times before he can bring himself to talk again. “You too.”

Severus sits up to look at him, eyes scanning Harry’s whole face, and ends up just nodding before lying back down.

 

When Harry’s phone rings the next Monday as he’s in the middle of a meeting it takes him far too long to realize what this horrible noise is. He excuses himself and steps into the corridor to pick up.

“Hello, Mr. Lupin?”

“Mr. Potter, actually. I am Teddy’s guardian. How can I help you?”

“It’s Maggie, from Teddy’s school.”

“Has something happened?”

“He got into a fight with another boy. I think it best if you come to pick him up.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Harry promises. Only after he has ended the call, re-entered the meeting to grab his things and tell his team they’ll have to excuse him for the day, does he realize that showing up within two minutes wouldn’t do. He calls Severus instead.

“Hey, I got a call from the school.”

“Is he alright?” Severus’ voice sounds tight and Harry wishes they were together in this.

“Yeah, a fight, they said. Meet me in the alley?”

Within thirty seconds of his arrival, Severus pops in. “Dolly is tending the potions.”

“What do we do?”

“We can’t reasonably be expected to be there this fast,” Severus checks the times with a quick spell. “We should wait here for at least a few more minutes, then we can make something up about both working from home.”

“How far is the walk normally?”

Severus thinks on that, “ten, fifteen minutes.”

“We can go in five then,” Harry decides, “and just be panting a little, like we rushed.”

Severus nods and clutches his hands together. Moves his head as if his neck hurts. Harry walks through what he wants to say at least ten times in his head before he’s satisfied with how it sounds.

“Can I?” Deep breaths, he’s messing this up. Severus looks at him like he’s been stung and Harry steps a little closer. “Ehm. I’m worried.”

“Me too,” Severus admits, in a _what of it_ kind of way.

“I don’t want to leave him there alone, and I’d prefer to Apparate straight into the office right now,” this is not what he wanted to say at all.

Severus blinks a few times, “he must be frightened.”

“He might be hurting,” Harry adds. “But it’d be worse if he had to change schools because we made a scene.”

“Yes,” Severus’ deep black eyes are looking right through Harry and Harry shivers but steps a little closer anyway. When he doesn’t back up, Harry steps closer still, and lets his head rest against Severus’ shoulder. Slowly and carefully, he wraps his arms around Severus’ waist, and he sighs heavily when he feels long arms wrap around him. “Is this what you need?” Severus whispers.

“Yes,” Harry promises. “Thank you.”

They stay like that, hanging onto each other until it’s time to storm the school. Harry’s phone chimes that it’s been five minutes, and they look at each other before stepping away and rushing towards the schoolyard, through the halls, straight to the principal’s office. It was only six months ago that they signed Teddy in here.

“Teddy,” Severus croaks, when they walk in. Teddy’s sitting in a corner, arms wrapped around his knees, face hidden, his hair colour definitely off.

“Papa,” Teddy looks up, face tear-stained, and he reaches out. Severus picks him up and hangs on to him, whispering into his ear. Harry notices for the first time that he’s still wearing robes. That Harry is wearing robes too. His eyes sting at the sight of Severus stepping around the office in little circles, robes swaying, Teddy clinging to him.

“Hello,” he turns to the lady overlooking the scene. Decides to pretend robes are normal and that the almost-black hair Teddy is currently sporting is a trick of the light. “I’m Harry Potter, we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes,” she says, and if she’s surprised by everything, she chooses not to mention it. “Jack is next door; his parents are on their way.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” she admits, “I didn’t see it and he didn’t want to talk to me.”

Harry nods, smart child.

“My brother,” Maggie says then. Nodding at him, then at Severus. “Went to boarding school in Scotland. If you wish to leave your robes here...”

It takes Harry a beat to understand but then he nods. He turns around and finds Severus is watching him, arms wrapped around a sobbing Teddy. “I wish to take him home.”

“Yes,” Harry decides. He focuses very hard and transfigures his robes into trousers and a jacket before taking off his cloak. The deep red is an odd look, but it is mostly Muggle-like. “I’ll grab his coat.”

When he returns with Teddy’s coat, which thankfully comes with a hood to hide his hair, Severus is sitting in a chair, Teddy is hanging on to him, and Maggie has someone on the phone.

“Ah,” she says when she sees him, “I’ll take you through.”

Harry helps Teddy into his coat and sends them off with a kiss for Teddy and a long look for Severus.

 

In the other room Harry finds a boy that he knows is probably in Teddy’s class, yet is inexplicably almost a head taller. “Hello,” he introduces himself to the child first, then to the parents. “I’m Harry Potter, you may call me Harry.”

He greets the principal too, and gets a wink from Maggie before she goes.

“So, what happened?” The child’s mother, Susan, asks. She’s looking at her child and immediately gets three points from Harry for not asking the principal.

Jack mumbles something, and his dad takes his hand. “Would you rather sit on my lap for this?”

The boy nods and gets tugged into his dad’s arms. “Teddy was telling us about his grandma and that she woke up but he can’t live with her still and then I asked what’s wrong with him since his real parents and his grandma don’t wanna take care of him and then he said I was rude and...” He takes a deep breath and fat tears start spilling down his cheeks, “and then he punched my arm really hard!”

“When I pulled them apart,” the principal says, “Jack and Teddy were hitting each other.”

“Are you friends normally?” Harry asks the child. He shakes his head.

“He doesn’t sit with my table and he doesn’t like rugby.” He turns big earnest eyes to Harry, “but I like him well enough! He makes cool drawings.”

Harry looks back at the parents for permission. “I’ll explain a bit, and I think we’ll be alright then.”

“Go ahead,” Susan pets her sons’ knee, and Harry takes a deep breath.

“Teddy’s birth parents died when he was only a baby, and his nan took care of him, but she’s very old and quite ill. His dad and I took him in because I was already his godfather. Do you have a godfather, Jack?”

Jack nods.

“Our family is a little complicated, but everybody loves Teddy very much.”

“Do you understand that what you said might have been hurtful?” Jack’s dad asks and Jack nods up at him.

Harry decides that’s quite enough for the day. “Severus and I will come in with Teddy a little early tomorrow, then the boys can apologize. Does that suit?”

Both of Jacks parents agree, the principal looks relieved, and Harry leaves through Maggie’s office again.

“What house?” He asks her, before grabbing his cloak.

“Hufflepuff, but years above you.” She’s grinning. “From what I know you’re a bit famous.”

“A bit,” Harry laughs. “It’s why we went with a Muggle school, give him some semblance of blending in.”

 

Harry gets to the alley and Apparates himself straight into the hallway. Before he’s put his winter robes away, Severus is standing in front of him. His index finger against his lip.

“In his bed?” Harry whispers.

“Yours,” Severus shrugs at Harry’s surprise, “he requested it, I figured I could invade considering the situation.”

Harry places a hand on Severus’ arm and squeezes gently, “you’re welcome in my room. Don’t worry.”

Severus twitches and Harry lets him go. Together they go upstairs, where Teddy is lying on Harry’s duvet, covered carefully by a throw. He’s sleeping but judging by his pink face, there was more than a little crying involved. Harry crawls over him, pulling Teddy against his stomach. Severus is standing next to the bed, moving his shoulders, rolling his neck.

“Lie down with us,” Harry suggests. “We can fill each other in.”

Severus does as he’s told and their socked feet meet underneath Teddy. He sleeps on. Harry fills Severus in first.

“That matches what Teddy told me,” Severus says, when he’s asked his questions and Harry has answered them all. “I hope the parents talk to him about kindness and perhaps we can talk to Teddy about punching.”

“I’d prefer to focus on how much we love him, today at least,” Harry looks over the sprawled-out shock of pitch-black hair into Severus’ eyes. Severus nods, and closes his eyes slowly. They need a rest. Harry kisses the top of Teddy’s head, then Severus’ forehead, before settling down. They’re all here, they’re safe. Severus’ hand crawls over to Harry’s side of Teddy and squeezes his elbow. They fall asleep like that.


	12. The Nereids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’d prefer to focus on how much we love him, today at least,” Harry looks over the sprawled-out shock of pitch-black hair into Severus’ eyes. Severus nods, and closes his eyes slowly. They need a rest. Harry kisses the top of Teddy’s head, then Severus’ forehead, before settling down. They’re all here, they’re safe. Severus’ hand crawls over to Harry’s side of Teddy and squeezes his elbow. They fall asleep like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long this took. I moved countries! Hope it's worth the wait <3

The drama of the fight takes a while to settle down, but by the end of the week Harry feels like they're stabalizing again. They settle into a routine of work and school and trying to spend time with the people they love for a little while. They visit Andromeda at her house, and never see a Malfoy. Rose is growing so fast it’s a little scary.

 

Then Stella Pinet bursts into their lives. She comes with short hair that Teddy matches on sight, a suitcase so small Harry wonders if it still needs to be unshrunk, and a booming laugh that fills the house. She stays in the room in the attic, and takes Teddy out after dinner every night for games in the little garden behind Grimmauld and enough roughhousing to rival several Weasleys.

Harry takes to watching them play, out from the window, watching both Teddy and her shift in and out of wolf form, and sees Teddy blossom as he doesn’t need to hold back for once. He’s never heard Teddy shout and scream like this before. He traces the condensation on the window and wonders where Severus might be.

With a tray for tea, he finds Severus in his bedroom window, curled up under far too many blankets, so deeply engrossed in a book his back is all the way round. His face is almost touching the pages, and his hair fans over his shoulder, hiding his expression.

“Hey,” Harry tries, standing in the open door. Severus startles and looks up, wide eyes, back still bent. Harry reaches out for the light, and walks in slowly with his tray. “I brought you tea, shall I put it down and go?”

“No,” Severus shakes his head and straightens his back, he looks like he might be in pain. “No, you can stay.”

Another loud laugh filters in from the garden, and Harry walks close enough that he can peek down at Stella and Teddy. “He’s having a good time.”

“Yes,” Severus fixes them both some tea and makes space for Harry to sit in the windowsill. It sounds sad.

“Can I touch you?” Harry asks, quietly, not wanting to hurt Severus when he’s clearly feeling fragile. All he gets in return is a slow blink, so he curls up, pushes his feet under some of Severus’ many blankets. They sit there until it’s time to call Teddy back in.

 

“Harry?” Teddy crawls under the covers with him before Harry’s even all the way awake. Harry waves his wand and the door click shut quietly, the room becomes all the way dark again.

“Can’t sleep?” He manages to croak out, and he feels Teddy nod. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not now,” Teddy whispers back.

“We can go for some ice cream tomorrow and talk about it then?” Harry suggests, and Teddy shrugs. “Whatever you need, love.” He presses a kiss to the top of Teddy’s hair, and pulls him closer still.

“I’ve a stomach ache,” Teddy complains, and Harry puts a hand on his forehead. No temperature. He starts telling Teddy about the time his father made an exam out of all the scary creatures they’d studied throughout the year, and he feels him soften in his arms. Before Harry even gets to the hinkypunk, Teddy is asleep.

 

The next morning Harry comes back from work early to find Teddy lying stretched out in front of the fire with Stella. She is reading and he is making a drawing of something, but when he sees Harry he jumps up. “Ice cream!”

“Yeah?” Harry laughs, catching Teddy as he launches himself at Harry. “Hey Stella, we’ll be out for a bit. Let Sev know if he comes looking for us?”

“Sure,” she grins, always a bit wolfish, and Harry just changes his clothes to Muggle clothes and helps Teddy into his coat.

“What gave you a stomach ache last night?” Harry asks, when they’re sitting on a bench in the park, a Muffliato protecting them from nosy Muggles, each holding on to some of the fancy gelato Harry would be ashamed to admit he prefers now.

It takes Teddy a while to answer, and he swings his legs as he ponders. “I think papa is angry with me.”

“What makes you say that?” Harry squints into the watery spring sunshine. He’s been feeling the same way a bit.

“He’s never there,” Teddy starts, holding up a finger like he must’ve seen a teacher do. “He looks sad a lot,” he holds up another finger. “And he can’t make potions anymore.” He goes back to holding up only one finger and Harry feels so overwhelmed with love he has to bite his lip.

“What happened with the potions?” Harry asks instead, proud of how steady his voice sounds.

“Well normally,” Teddy starts, his voice serious in between the slurping on his ice cream, which is by now covering most of his face. “Normally when he makes potions he can talk to me or he’ll tell me it’s a hard one and then I go do something else. But then he made like four go bad. And he yelled.”

“When was this?” Teddy wrinkles his whole face in thought, then shrugs. Wrong question. “Are you worried he’s angry? Or more worried you don’t know what’s wrong?”

Teddy has to think on that too, “I don’t really think he’s mad at me. Sometimes I think maybe, but then sometimes he just seems sad. Or – or. I don’t know.”

“Different?” Harry tries, and Teddy shrugs again. “Do you feel like you’ve said everything you wanted to say to me?”

“What’s wrong?” Teddy asks, and Harry realizes he must have his thunder-face on.

“I’m thinking very hard.” Harry tries to smile at him, “does it make me look angry?”

“Yeah,” Teddy laughs, and that’s good at least.

“Alright, I’ll have a think later, and I’ll let you know.”

 

Teddy and Harry spend a fun Saturday afternoon plotting. They end up calling it Operation Silver, because Teddy is seven and Harry can’t say no to him. They realize they both have been assuming it was their fault when Severus is upset, which makes Harry want to stab everyone that ever hurt Teddy.

“Maybe it’s Stella,” Teddy whispers, even though Stella is off baffling Unspeakables and Severus is brewing.

“Maybe. What do you think will help?”

“We could make him a drawing,” Teddy suggests.

“That’s a nice idea,” Harry agrees, thinking on the best way to have this conversation. “Do you remember when you used to have to hide with your grandma?”

“Yeah,” Teddy plays with his teacup. Harry’ll have to keep this short.

“I think that was because something bad happened before, and she worried it’d happen again.”

“Like when Jack was mean to me and we fought and now sometimes when he talks about me I think he’ll be mean again,” Teddy nods sagely.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Harry says. “Now I think Severus has that too, and I think sometimes he’s so worried he can’t think of other things.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure how that works,” Harry prays he’s doing the right thing by talking to Teddy about this. “But I think I know what might help.”

They talk about nice things they can do for Severus, and how they can help him remember where he is, and Teddy gets extremely good at talking in minute detail about things he’s doing, about his day, describing textures and temperatures. It usually takes a while, but almost always draws Severus back to the conversation, blinking in confusion at having drifted off.

 

After another missed dinner, Harry and Teddy have a secret meeting in Teddy’s room. They decided not to talk about Severus in front of Stella, who had been full of stories of running wild and free, her eyes flashing wolf-like, the whites disappearing.

“Did he tuck you in?” Harry whispers, while Teddy hangs on to his hand with all his strength.

“Yeah,” Teddy face is crumpled and confused, “but then he said he had to go after only one because I was tired.”

“One story only?” Severus normally stays until Teddy is all the way asleep, Harry’s heard him creep up the stairs at three in the morning before, knowing he’d stayed with Teddy for hours. Teddy hums. “I’ve an idea.”

“Yeah?” Teddy sits up, beaming at the thought of a midnight adventure.

“Yeah,” Harry promises. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get ready for bed, and then I’ll come pick you up. But you have to pretend you’re asleep!”

Teddy shakes his head, “no way. I’ll fall asleep and you’ll leave me.”

“I won’t,” Harry promises, fighting to keep the tone light, “I promise I’ll wake you up.”

Harry works a bit more, and reads a book in front of the fire with some wine. Stella has another Werewolf support group meeting, so she won’t be home until late. When Harry hears the clock strike midnight, he gets up to get ready for bed. The house is silent, Severus should be in bed by now.

With his wand lit, Harry creeps into Teddy’s bedroom. “Teddy,” he whispers. “Teddy it’s time.”

“Hmmm,” Teddy mumbles, then he seems to remember all at once what’s happening, and his eyes fly open. “Operation Silver!”

“Yeah,” Harry holds a finger against his lip, and together they tiptoe up to Severus’ room. Harry almost falls and Teddy claps a hand over his mouth to stop the giggling escaping. It’s not very effective but the way he looks with his cheeks bright and his eyes dancing burns itself into Harry’s mind forever. The pyjamas with snitches Molly got Teddy are getting a little small, and his ankles stick out. Severus always tells them they’ll catch a cold if they’re barefoot, and Harry notices for the first time in a long time that Teddy and he just wear slippers everywhere now. For Severus.

“You knock,” Teddy whispers, and Harry shakes his head.

“You knock,” he urges, and Teddy almost laughs. “Sh!” He pulls a serious face and Teddy follows, looking over his shoulder for help. With more bravery than he has any right to store in his tiny body, Teddy knocks on the door.

“Teddy?” They hear.

“Yeah,” Teddy opens the door a bit. “Can I come sleep with you?”

“’Course,” Severus mumbles, already half asleep again, “you alright?”

Harry follows Teddy into the room, and sits down on the edge of the bed while Teddy climbs on top of Severus and kisses him on the forehead with a loud smacking noise. “Harry’s here too,” Teddy tells Severus. “We want to sleep with you.”

Severus sits up a little bit, just to peak around Teddy with a single eyebrow lifted and Harry can’t keep down the bubbling excitement in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he laughs. “Do I need to leave?”

“Just be quiet,” Severus moans, and Teddy wriggles under the covers with him, so that Harry can join them on the other side. With Severus in the middle, Teddy and Harry high-five. “What is happening?” Complains Severus.

Teddy looks at Harry and Harry nods. “Tell him.”

“Well,” Teddy sits up, all excitement and love, “you were being strange and so Harry and I made Operation Silver so you would be happy and go back to being nice.”

“Was I not nice?” Severus asks, going for nonchalant and hitting deep sorrow instead.

“You were!” Teddy promises, clearly picking up on Severus’ distress too. “But different. Like tonight you weren’t there for dinner and you only told me one story, and then you also yelled at the potions.”

“We miss you,” Harry summarizes, and Severus freezes up next to him, still facing Teddy. “Teddy, lie down, it’s late. We can tell papa about Operation Silver in the morning.”

“Alright,” Teddy rolls his eyes and he’s all Severus for just a second, “but I won’t sleep.”

He does, within seconds actually, and Severus still has his back to Harry, he’s still breathing too shallow, far too tense.

“Should I go?” Harry whispers, not wanting to intrude. Severus inhales, deep and shaky, and on the exhale makes a little choking noise as he holds back a sob. Like Harry can’t see him, like he isn’t right there. Unsure of what to do, Harry touches Severus’ shoulder, then trails down over his upper arm. Squeezes gently. He tries to stay awake, but ends up falling asleep before Severus does.

 

Stella stays for a month, in the end. She meets a large number of the Weasleys, inspires Hermione into drafting five new bills in the first week, and instils a deep sense of pride into everyone that loves Teddy on the whole wolf-thing. Harry and Severus were mostly there already, but it takes two hours of watching her walk through the garden with Andromeda before they seem to find some even ground. Stella hugs Andromeda and over Andromeda's shoulder spies Harry and Severus, waiting in front of the window. She grins at them, like she does this every day, too many teeth showing in her smile.

“Teddy’s very young for having such far-reaching control over his form,” Harry hears Molly tell Minerva, cheeks glowing. Minerva winks at Severus, who was listening in on the conversation too, but he just twitches violently and walks away. It makes her turn to Harry instead, and Harry feels instantly like he’s about three inches tall. He bites his lip and refuses to say anything in public, and the moment passes.

“I’m working on it,” he promises her before she leaves, and she pats his arm.

“I know dear, I’m just feeling protective.” It’s a familiar enough feeling to Harry, who’s had to resist the urge to shout at people who are rude to Severus several times already.

 

While Stella is with them, Severus spends more time in his room, more time in the lab. Most nights either Teddy or Harry will end up in his bed, a quiet agreement between the two that just because Severus isn’t up for company, doesn’t mean he should be alone. It helps, or seems to at least. And Severus starts copying the way Harry asks about Teddy’s day, seems to relish in their little ritual of stomping their feet before entering a new place, of sniffing the air every time they Apparate. It makes Harry feel grounded, he just hopes it does the same for Severus.

 

Stella promises to stay in touch with Teddy, and Teddy cries bitter tears when she leaves, but as the Portkey whisks her away – he turns to Severus and hugs him.

“You’ll have dinner with us every day again now, won’t you?” He asks, face mashed against Severus’ stomach, and Harry shoots Severus an apologetic look. Severus groans as he picks Teddy up and holds him close.

“I cannot promise that,” he tells Teddy, “but I am sorry for missing so many dinners these last weeks.”

Teddy is clearly not happy at all with that answer, but settles soon enough when they suggest writing Stella a letter to thank her for everything.


	13. Epping Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stella promises to stay in touch with Teddy, and Teddy cries bitter tears when she leaves, but as the Portkey whisks her away – he turns to Severus and hugs him.
> 
> “You’ll have dinner with us every day again now, won’t you?” He asks, face mashed against Severus’ stomach, and Harry shoots Severus an apologetic look. Severus groans as he picks Teddy up and holds him close.
> 
> “I cannot promise that,” he tells Teddy, “but I am sorry for missing so many dinners these last weeks.”
> 
> Teddy is clearly not happy at all with that answer, but settles soon enough when they suggest writing Stella a letter to thank her for everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the encouragement and suggestions Lilian.

It helps, to be alone again in the house. Severus returns to what Harry has come to think of as a normal level of twitchiness.

 

“You’re jealous,” Harry surprises himself by saying one night when he’s in the sitting room with Severus. They were about to open a bottle of wine when an owl had arrived. The way Severus’ back had straightened, the way his eyes had narrowed.

“Shut up,” Severus threatens, a dark glare sent Harry’s way, and now he’s sure.

“You’re jealous of Stella. Why? Is it –”

“Potter,” Severus drops his voice down to dangerous and Harry considers backing off. But really, he’d rather understand.

“Do you think Teddy likes her better? Or is it the wolf thing?”

“POTTER!” Severus bellows, and he’s standing far too close, far too sudden, his eyes wide and angry, his face red with rage. “You do not have the right to know everything about me! Seize your speculation!”

“Or what?” Harry asks and he knows that was a fairly stupid response before Severus steps even closer. He’s not angry yet, feels oddly calm in the face of Severus’ temper.

“Don’t challenge me,” he speaks slow and soft, somehow even more explosive because of the rage he’s holding back. “You will not like what you find.”

He turns away, probably to stomp off to his room, and this conversation is _not_ over. “Wait.”

“Let me go,” Severus stands still and this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

“You don’t need my permission for anything,” Harry barely stops himself from rolling his eyes, “why start now.”

That turns Severus around, robes flaring, “of course I need your permission. Are you really too stupid to notice that I have never once gone against your orders?”

“My orders?” Harry is standing now too, too surprised not to. “What orders have I given you?”

“We shall have the wolf,” Severus mocks, a terrible impression of Harry’s accent. “We shall send the child to Muggle school, these are to be your areas within my house.”

“MY HOUSE?” Harry cries, “it’s been your house the entire time you arsehole! I don’t own you and I don’t want to! You’re beholding yourself to me, no one is making you do this at all!” When Severus slumps, shoulders slack and confusion on his face, he knows he’s gone too far. He lets himself fall back into his seat and while he would normally invite Severus to join him, he just waits this time. It wouldn’t do for him to feel forced. Eventually Severus sits down, slowly, at the front of the seat, as if it won’t hold for him. His breathing a little more steady, but his cheeks are still pink from shouting.

“There are several things I’d like to say,” Harry starts. “And I’ll start with the easiest one. The house is yours. It’s ours. The paperwork is in the library in the binder with your name on it.”

“I didn’t sign anything,” Severus shuffles a little, and Harry hopes it means he’s ready to listen.

“It was yours before the paperwork, when I rearranged the wards.” Severus narrows his eyes, pale and confused, and so Harry goes on. “Which leads us to the next thing. I’m deeply uncomfortable with the idea of you listening to me.” Severus jerks his head up but seems to accept the small smile Harry sends his way. It is pretty amusing.

“That does sound unbearable,” he manages to joke back, if weakly.

“If you’d like to talk about it, and I suppose this is the last thing I’d like to say because it ties in to the jealousy too,” Severus glares at that, but Harry goes on, looking him right in the eye, “I’m here. It sounds like maybe you’re having a hard time adjusting to being loved so completely by Teddy and me, and that’s not unreasonable. You can talk to me.”

With a small whimper, Severus shifts right into a large black panther, on the floor in front of his chair. He looks sorrowful, as a panther, his face expressive in a completely different way. Harry kneels down in front of the panther, not understanding at all what just happened, and touches his face. Severus lets him, lets him pet his head, and scratch behind his ears, and even press a kiss between his eyes. It’s only when a heavy head leans down on Harry’s shoulder that he realizes. This is how Severus asks to be held.

 

It becomes a bit of a thing, but Harry is not stupid enough to point it out. Whenever Severus has dropped five things in a row, or stubbed his toe and spilled saus on his clean shirt, or it’s been a cold few days and his shoulders are up by his ears with tension, he turns into a giant sad panther.

 

The day after the fight about the house, Harry comes home and finds Teddy playing by himself in the sitting room. He walks downstairs and before he can turn into the lab, he hears a noise from the kitchen.

“... that simply isn’t enough.”

Harry walks into the kitchen, and finds Severus and Ron, sitting opposite each other holding steaming mugs of tea. They look up at exactly the same time, and it would be funny if it wasn’t so weird.

 

“Is it too much to ask you to be honest with me?” Harry asks one night, petting soft fur, entirely used to have huge teeth right next to his face. He’s pretty sure that he could pick Severus out of a line-up of other black panthers at this point, the bend to his nose, the way his eyes are oddly dark. “Just tell me if you’re not comfortable or if you feel I’m bypassing you.”

Severus looks at him like he’s going to eat him, and some part of Harry’s stomach wants to make a run for it. The rest of him knows he’s never been safer. Severus offers him a small frown only, but Harry hadn’t really expected more. He picks at the corner of Severus’ eye, exactly like he’d do to their Kneazle and only realizes when he’s vanished the goop that he probably should have asked first, but there’s soft amazement in the tilt of Severus' head, so Harry leans in with a laugh, and kisses him between his eyes.

 

It’s Teddy’s birthday next. First his party, on the Saturday, which has the house completely overrun with classmates and cousins. Molly comes to help, and luckily none of the children ask why their garden is so large. They pretend Teddy’s cousins are all French so that they have a good reason for not knowing football or the schooling system, and at the end of the day Molly has a good long mad laugh in the kitchen when she flicks her wand and all the dishes start doing themselves. Severus was excused after lunch when he’d become grey-looking and shaky. He comes down after the last children leave with Molly, buttoned up head to toe, and sets the garden back to how it’s supposed to look. Teddy falls asleep on the sofa before dinner, a huge grin on his face, that Severus pets over and over as he holds him.

“Do you think we’re good parents?” Harry asks, low so he doesn’t wake Teddy up. Severus turns deep black eyes to him and lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug.

“I think every part of this that’s easy is because Teddy is fantastic,” he admits, and Harry has to agree with that. Every part that would’ve been an insurmountable challenge is possible because of Severus, he wants to add. But he doesn’t.

 

It’s only after dinner the next day, when all their friends and family have popped in at some point for cake or just a hug, and Teddy has become overwhelmed enough by the attention that he’s not left Harry’s lap in a while, that the illusion of being a team shatters again.

“When’s your birthday?” Teddy asks Harry, almost asleep in his arms.

“In July,” Harry tells him, “not for a while yet.”

“What about you?” Teddy asks, and Harry realizes he has no idea when Severus’ birthday is. He expects him to say something like August, or even October, because they weren’t exactly friends at that point, but Severus’ mouth tightens, and his back becomes so straight it’s frightening.

“January 9th,” he says, and Harry pulls all the pain that comes from being gutted back inside. Not in front of Teddy.

“That was already,” Teddy frowns, “why didn’t we get you cake or presents?” He looks to Harry but Harry can’t talk right now.

“I’m a grown-up,” Severus says, still too tense to be believable. “Not all grown-ups celebrate their birthdays.”

If he weren’t so shocked, Harry might’ve rolled his eyes at the statement. Grown-ups get to choose their own traditions. Instead he leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling. Smiles and nods through Teddy saying goodnight and then decides to call it a day too. He’ll deal with this in the morning.

 

“Harry,” he hears, and even in his sleep Harry knows to move away, so he’s already wrapping Teddy up in the covers by the time he registers what’s happening.

“What is it, love?”

“I don’t think Operation Silver is over,” Teddy whispers. And Harry nods. He is completely right, and what a Teddy way to approach a problem.

“Do you want to organize a birthday party for Severus with me?” Harry asks, and they brainstorm things Severus likes until Teddy starts to drop off. The next morning he’s tired but clearly full of anticipatory mischief. Thankfully Severus seems to attribute it to his excitement about getting to talk about his birthday at school.

“Remember,” Harry says, when he’s dropping Teddy off, “no talk of magic in school.”

“I know,” Teddy whines, and he runs away after giving Harry a quick hug to go talk to his friends.

“Jack had a blast,” Harry hears, and he turns around to see Jack’s mum standing next to him, also clutching a school bag and an abandoned coat.

“Susan,” Harry smiles, “I’m so glad to hear.”

“You’re doing great,” she promises, “I remembered our first birthday party and I realized you’d never done this before. You did well.”

“Thank you,” Harry feels himself smile properly this time. He wants to tell her that they have a complicated relationship with birthdays. That they never had a party, never had friends or extended family come with gifts and well-wishes. He thinks she must see it on him, a bit, because she squeezes his elbow before waving goodbye.

 

Harry Apparates straight back home, and is scratching out a letter to say he’ll be working from home when Severus steps into the hallway. They look at each other and Severus nods. As one they walk into the library. When the door clicks closed, Harry takes a deep breath.

“You first,” he says, deflating at the look of defiance on Severus’ face. He knows that feeling.

“You do not have the right to my personal information,” Severus starts, “you could have asked. I don’t owe you compliance with your rituals.”

Harry nods and sits down in one of the armchairs. He rather feels like a long good cry. Maybe some time travelling to abduct Severus and protect him from whatever made him like this. Defensive about joy.

“Birthdays are for babs,” Severus says, so monotone that it cannot be his own words. His accent changes too. Like Teddy falls and Severus calls his scrapes scrages. Words he heard so many times they’re a worn path in his mind, impossible to step off.

“That’s it isn’t it,” Harry says, accidentally out loud. He decides to keep going. “You can’t change what you’ve believed for too long. Not without conscious effort.”

Severus' face does a complicated thing that means he’s about to start yelling and Harry sits up.

“I want Teddy to believe that life is worth celebrating, that joy is found in family and friends and being loved exactly for who you are. That is why we have birthday parties.”

Severus looks extremely sceptical and wraps his robes tighter around himself. “Fine, whatever you want. Are we done?”

“No,” Harry hasn’t even begun. “You don’t get to keep these things from us.”

Severus draws himself up to his full height. “I’ll do exactly as I please,” he snarls. “He is _my_ son, it is _my_ life, whatever part of that I wish to keep, I get to keep.”

Harry bites down on the _duh_ , and fights to keep his face in control, and doesn’t manage, judging by the look on Severus’ face.

“You push everything you want, everything you think is right, until there is no space to disagree!” Severus steps closer, still wrapped tight in his robes, “I give in to what you want because it’s easier than getting you to see things from my perspective!”

That hurts, and Harry recoils at it. Righteous anger is a new look on Severus.

“You never listen,” Severus continues, “you just barge wherever you want to go – heedless of the consequences! Sometimes you are not the best person for the job, you are not all knowing and it is not your place to come in where you are not – not wanted.”

Harry has pulled his legs up, but Severus stepped closer with every word, and now he is leaning over Harry, eyes on fire, mouth snarling and mean. Was that meant to be hurtful? The thought that Severus might hurt him on purpose makes Harry’s eyes sting and he knows that his jaw is working. That he’ll only look more stubborn.

“I don’t say this to hurt you, you stupid child,” Severus chides, standing up straight. He is still looking down at Harry but at least he is not crowding him as much anymore. “It is to make it clear how you are hurting me.”

And suddenly Harry sees it. The lists of things he thinks Teddy should do, the things he thinks they should do, always prepared to bring up another argument, assuming Severus will fight back endlessly. “I’m really sorry,” he whimpers.

“That’s a great first step,” Severus tells him, and he twirls around. Leaves the library, and Harry in it. They spend the rest of the day avoiding each other, it takes until dinner time before Harry can look at Severus again. He got no work done. His stomach hurts. But Teddy chats happily about his day.

 

Harry is so relieved to have a black panther standing over him in the middle of the night that he laughs as he cries. Pulls Severus down on top of him, pets and kisses his face. “I am sorry,” he whispers, “it is not only you who needs to change, I am sorry for making you feel you are not exactly who you are supposed to be.”

Severus rubs his cheek against Harry’s chest and they fall asleep like that, sprawled over each other.

 

They celebrate Severus’ birthday the next weekend. Harry and Teddy wake Severus up in the morning with a house full of balloons and streamers, and the promise of his favourite foods all day. Severus looks unhappy and scared every time Teddy looks away, until Harry decides surprises are not all that much better than anticipation, and tells him that it’ll be just the three of them. After that, they have a great day. They go to the forest for potions ingredients, and end up running around for hours, playing and running until even Teddy is tired. While he sleeps, curled up in a sunny patch on the forest floor, Harry helps Severus pick some type of mushroom. It’s quiet, surprisingly peaceful, until Harry notices Teddy isn’t where they left them.

“Teddy,” he calls, “Teddy where are you?”

Severus turns to him and sets his basket down, then straightens up to his full height. He takes a deep breath in, and from deep within, finds a roar. He doesn’t even transform for it, is at once panther and human, tall and proud, with enormous teeth.

Almost immediately Harry hears leaves rustle, and seconds later Teddy tumbles into the little clearing, transforming as he sits up.

“Where were you?” Severus asks him, his voice quiet and calm.

“There was a butterfly,” Teddy grins and flops onto his back. “I almost caught it.”

Severus and Harry exchange a look and Harry knows with absolute certainty that they’re experiencing the same mix of relief, joy, pride. Love.

 

“What is something that you’ve always wanted?” Harry asks Teddy that night, when he’s curled up in his armchair and Teddy and Severus are sprawled out in front of the fire.

Teddy thinks long and hard, then looks at Harry carefully from under his lashes. “A mum.”

“That’s fair,” Harry nods, blinking away tears. “What about you Severus?”

“A good night’s sleep,” he complains, and Harry knows he isn’t joking as much as he wishes he was.

“What about you?” Teddy asks, before transforming and curling into Severus’ side for warmth.

“This,” Harry promises, feeling fond and happy. “A wonderful family.”

Severus transforms too, and dozes in front of the fire with Teddy while Harry looks at them breathe, slow and steady. Then the doorbell rings.

Harry makes it to the hall right as Albert opens the door, and Ron steps through.

“Hey,” Harry greats him, gives him a hug. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah mate,” Ron grins, “baby and Hermione are asleep, otherwise they’d have come for this.”

“For what?” Harry leads Ron through and takes his coat, and watches Ron take something out of his pocket and unshrink it to a big box filled with presents.

“We agree that Severus’d prefer minimal fuss, but we wanted to show him we would have come. Had he been the party-throwing kind.”

Harry swallows past a lump in his throat and nods Ron on through to the living room, where Teddy and Severus have fully fallen asleep. The Kneazle is tucked in between them and also asleep. Ron huffs a little half-laugh.

“Should we leave them to sleep?”

“Nah,” Harry sits on the sofa with Ron and gets them both a glass of wine from Noddy, with a third in case Severus wants some when he wakes up. “This happens a lot.”

“Arse over tit,” Ron grins at the sappy expression on Harry’s face, and Harry ducks his head. Ron doesn’t know the half of it.


	14. Shepherd Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“Should we leave them to sleep?”
> 
> “Nah,” Harry sits on the sofa with Ron and gets them both a glass of wine from Noddy, with a third in case Severus wants some when he wakes up. “This happens a lot.”
> 
> “Arse over tit,” Ron grins at the sappy expression on Harry’s face, and Harry ducks his head. Ron doesn’t know the half of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while! Sorry. After this there's one more chapter. Thank you all for sticking around while I figure out my life.  
> All my love to Lilian, who makes this fun and makes me better. You're a starry-eyed emoji <3

Harry comes back from work tired and a little shaky. He spends most of his time at the office doing administration and coordination these days, and since Teddy he’s been far less likely to take on cases just because he thinks he can do a better job than the other people in his team, but these days still happen. A child he’s been following for years, always right on the edge of awful and not bad enough, and just the trigger they needed for everything to go wrong at once.

“Harry!” Teddy screams when Harry opens the door, and Harry winces. He needs a bath. He needs something hot to drink, preferably strong too, but he forces himself to catch Teddy, hug and kiss him, and let him go again. Now is not the time to cry, he can do that where Teddy won’t see.

“Teddy, why don’t you go wash up for dinner,” Severus says, low and quiet, and maybe Harry isn’t doing such a good job of hiding his awful day. “Would you prefer to be excused?”

“No,” Harry decides. Better not to let this get to him. Won’t be the last time. “No, I’ll just have a quick shower.”

Harry ends up having a quick cry in the shower, and can’t bring himself to talk during dinner at all, but when Severus tries to send him to bed, he refuses. He wants to be as close to Teddy as possible. Would prefer to hold him the whole night.

“Go to bed,” Severus tries again, when he comes back from tucking Teddy in.

“No,” this feeling in his stomach means nightmares, and Harry is not in the mood for nightmares. He’s quietly thinking if maybe he can stay awake until Severus has gone to bed, that he could join him, and startles a little when Severus steps in very close.

“Why are you like this?” Severus asks, low and dangerous, and it makes the panic in Harry’s gut flare up and out until all his joints are on fire. Before he knows it he’s standing up, rather too close to Severus.

“Hey Harry,” he mocks, knowing it’s a bad idea, unable to stop himself, “how was your day? Is there anything I can do? You look like you might need a hug.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know any of that?” Snape throws back, but he steps away a little, making space.

“Why don’t you pay attention to me?” Harry whines, and it’s pathetic he needs to stop right now. “Why don’t you hold me? Why don’t you comfort me?”

“You didn’t ask,” Severus looks confused now, and more than a little angry.

“I don’t want to have to ask! I’m always trying to help you!”

“Because you don’t trust me!” Severus shouts. And it’s a little true. Perhaps more than a little. Harry deflates and sinks down into the sofa. Severus sits down next to him.

“You don’t trust me either,” Harry tries. It’s true but it’s not enough.

“I don’t trust you not to use every weapon I give you against me, you don’t trust me not to need help. Anyone, really.”

“Weapons,” Harry tries to look at Severus’ face and can’t see him, hiding behind a curtain of lank hair. “Not all information is a weapon.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Severus voice is so soft now. “Just like you know the position it puts me in to be financially dependent on you.”

Harry has to bite his tongue not to say it. _Like you were doing so well without me_. He feels the words, feels himself want to retaliate. Takes a deep breath in, and lets a shuddering breath out. Severus is right. He can’t afford this life for Teddy, and he doesn’t even have a house anymore. He loves Teddy and wants the best for him, even if it’s not what Harry thinks is the best. And he deserves to be included rather than fought on decisions.

“She almost died,” he says instead, and before he knows it he’s sobbing into Severus’ robes, hanging on to bony shoulders and narrow ribs, not enough air, so many tears. Severus pets his head and lets him cry, listens while Harry tells him about the blood, and the fear, and how she’d looked to him like he was the saviour even though he’s the one that failed to get her out of this situation in the first place.

 

“There’s something I’d like to ask,” Severus tells him, not long after Harry’s worst day at work in a long time. Harry’s been trying to keep an open mind, to let Severus participate in all discussions and to really pay attention to what he says. So far he has mostly noticed how much Severus does everything Harry asks of him, without complaint.

“You want to ask Minerva for your job back?” Harry teases, but when he sees Severus’ face he just nods. “Sorry, go on.”

“Would you be available on Friday, and would you be willing to have Teddy stay someplace else for the night?”

“Yeah,” Harry tells him, “of course. Andromeda? Ron and Hermione? The Burrow?”

“I’d prefer The Burrow,” Snape frowns, “since he’s been there before. If we can be at home when he goes to stay with Andromeda for the first time, that would help me.”

“That’s fair,” Harry promises, “Ron and Hermione can be our back-up.”

Molly has a full house that weekend, Charlie is home from Romania, which means Ron and Percy are too, and Teddy latches on to Charlie for stories about dragons. When Harry and Severus kiss him goodbye, he barely acknowledges them.

“I’m glad he’s not upset when we leave,” Harry says, when they’re standing outside The Burrow, mostly to himself. Severus seems to get it, and shoots him a little twitch of his lips. He’s been nervous since Harry agreed to the sleepover, and Harry’s still not quite sure where they’ll be going. “Muggle clothes, right?” He asks, before they Apparate to Grimmauld Place together.

“Yes,” Severus nods, before letting Harry in through the door. “I would like to leave in an hour or so, if that suits.”

“Of course,” Harry promises, one hand on Severus’ arm. “Anything else I should know?”

“Not right now,” Severus decides after some though, and it’s pretty ominous but Harry decides to let it slide. As he showers and changes, he wonders if he should be more nervous. He picks clothes that he hopes match the formality of what he knows Severus wears on Friday nights, and when he comes down the stairs Severus’ door opens.

“Hey,” he grins. Severus has showered too, his hair still damp, and he looks even paler. “Are you alright? Good to go?”

Severus nods, and on their way out grabs a bag from by the door that judging by the shape has a bottle of wine in it. They walk to the underground together, Harry following Severus’ lead. It’s been a nice day, so the temperature is still comfortable out, even with his coat open. Harry tries to enjoy the walk and finds his eyes straying to Severus over and over again. When they’re waiting for their train, Severus leans in. “Is something wrong?”

“No?”

“You’re staring.” Harry apologizes and lets his hand find Severus’ sleeve. He wants to say that Severus looks nice. Smells nice. That he’s grateful to be allowed to come with, finally, to whatever it is Severus does on Fridays. But it’s busy all around them, and Severus doesn’t like crowds, so he tries to be a comforting presence instead.

When they arrive after a pretty torturous forty minutes on the tube, they walk out into a part of London Harry has never been to. Severus leads them to a door and rings, then straightens his clothes.

“Severus,” Harry whispers, “what am I here for?” Severus blinks at Harry for just a second, then the door opens and a tall woman smiles from ear to ear.

“Severus! Hello!” She kisses Severus on the cheek, and turns her smile to Harry.

“This is Harry,” is all Severus says. “Harry, this is Olivia.”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Olivia says, and she offers her hand. Harry likes her immediately, everything about her radiates warmth and joy. He takes her hand.

“Likewise,” he promises, and he watches Severus’ mouth twitch from behind Olivia.

Olivia goes up the stairs first, and Severus follows, but not before leaning over to Harry and whispering in his ear. “We’re here for dinner.”

 

Olivia and her wife May have a beautiful apartment above a shop, with bookshelves along the walls and creaking wooden floors. They walk around in their socks, so Harry and Severus take their shoes off too. The wine Severus brought is greeted with much cooing and appreciation, and soon Severus is chatting in the kitchen with May about something to do with goats’ cheese.

“Would you like something to drink?” Olivia offers, and Harry jerks out of his thoughts.

“Yes please,” he tries to be warm and friendly right back, but feels a bit unstable. “Just some water for now, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she comes back with a glass of wine for herself, and water for Harry, and joins him in front of the window. They have a view of a little square out front. “We’re very glad Severus finally brought you.”

“If I’m being very honest,” Harry says, low so Severus won’t hear, his eyes flicking over Olivia’s face to see if she might be kind in this too. “He’s been rather secretive about his Friday nights.”

She laughs, bright teeth showing, and pushes her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not surprised. He's a secretive person, isn’t he? We’re here for Shabbat. I expect about ten more people tonight.” As she says it the doorbell rings, and with an apologetic smile she leaves Harry alone again.

“Harry?” May calls, and he walks over to the kitchen, where Severus looks about as relaxed as Harry has ever seen him. It’s nice. Makes Harry feel safe too. “Severus tells me you have a great nose for spices. Can you tell me what my stew needs?”

Harry can’t help but grin and blush at the compliment, even second hand, and leans in obediently for a taste. “It’s wonderful,” he praises. “Do you have more of that fresh thyme? I think it’d help the aubergine.”

“You win,” she laughs, elbowing Severus in a way Harry would never, and Severus just laughs with her. “More thyme it is.”

“I always win,” Severus takes another sip of wine and it stains his lips. Something about the smell of food, the warmth and comfort in the large open space, and the fact that Severus looks fantastic in Muggle clothes, makes Harry wants to lick them clean.

 

They have a wonderful evening, Harry gets seated between Severus and Oscar, a librarian with a booming laugh and an arsenal of dirty jokes that makes Harry’s ears burn. At some point during desert Harry’s thigh falls against Severus’, and it stays there for the rest of the evening, as they drink more wine and laugh and talk, the warmth and weight a constant reminder of the fluttering in Harry’s stomach.

 

“How did you find these people?” He asks as they’re walking away through the night air. He feels warm and giddy. Full and pleasantly tipsy. The cold air is a nice contrast so he steers Severus away from the tube. He’d rather walk back.

“I’d prefer not to Apparate,” Severus says, standing still in the middle of the street.

“I thought we could walk,” Harry tells himself he won’t argue, this is Severus’ night and if he’s cold or tired they can –

“Oh, that’s fine,” Severus gets back onto the pavement. “It is nice out, isn’t it?” He’s staring up at the sky, where they can see a star or two, and Harry takes his chance. Let’s his hand rest in the crook of Severus’ elbow, and tips his forehead to a bony shoulder before steering them in the direction of home. They walk in silence for a bit, close together, and Harry’s forgotten he even asked by the time Severus answers.

“I was a volunteer at the London Pride last summer,” he murmurs, as if they might be overheard. “I met Aron there, and he mentioned this tradition. Invited me to come.”

“Is it always at Olivia and May’s?” Harry asks, biting down on everything that ‘volunteer at Pride’ makes him want to say.

“It rotates a bit,” Severus looks up and down the empty street before crossing. “Straight or left?”

Harry looks around and realizes what Severus is really asking. Through or around SOHO. “What would you prefer?”

“We can go through,” Severus shrugs, like he doesn’t care, and they go straight. “Olivia and May have a lot of space, and they’re in the city, but last year in summer we spent quite a bit of time at Max’ place. They have a wonderful garden.”

“Can I come?” Harry asks, and loves the way the city lights make the angles of Severus face harsher and foreign. Still beloved. “Like, to another dinner. I’m not asking to be there every time, but – ”

“Yes,” Severus blinks slowly, cat-like, “yes, if you wish. If you’d be – if it would suit. Perhaps we could host at some point?”

“I’d like that,” Harry can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear, so he turns his head to look at the road again. They don’t stand out here much, it’s busy around them and every now and then they pass a club with a hoard of smokers outside. “I love this.”

“What do you love?” Severus sounds confused, and a little tense in the face of all the people around them.

“Being with you,” Harry says, and it’s more than he was going to say, but it’s true nonetheless. “I had a good time tonight, I’m having a good time right now. I’m happy to be walking home with you.”

Severus gives him a jerky nod and not much else, but Harry lets it slide. He’s enjoying the evening air, the sense of being welcome into Severus’ life.

“Wait,” he says, when a thought pops into his head, “was there ever a book club?”

“You remembered,” Severus chuckles. “Officially yes, unofficially I think it’s been three months or more since we actually discussed a book.”

“What happened that time it got cancelled?”

“I didn’t lie,” Severus tells him, eyes wide and honest, and Harry wouldn’t care if he had. He just wants a cuddle. Maybe a kiss. “We had planned to do it at a bar, in case new people would want to come meet us in an informal setting, but the bar was double booked and it got too loud.”

They walk on and Harry squeezes Severus’ arm instead of begging him to let him stay in his bed tonight. They’re almost home. He feels weirdly like crying, like something infinite is ending.

“I love this too,” Severus says, eventually. “Never really thought I’d get to have anything like it.”

Harry can relate to that, so he hums. “I feel sometimes that if nothing changes about my life, I could die happily.”

“That is the dumbest thing you ever said,” Severus tells him, with feeling, and Harry has no idea where that came from. Where he went wrong. “You’ve got to keep adjusting your goals.”

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asks, fighting to keep his tone mild so they can preserve the mood. They’re standing on the steps now, waiting to go in, and Severus is shaking. “Get inside.”

One eyebrow tells him more than a thousand words, and he laughs to himself. “You look like you’re cold, I think we can have this conversation inside.”

“I’m not cold,” Severus tells him, and he proves it by pressing the back of his hand to Harry’s face. “But I agree.”

Harry follows Severus up the stairs and into his bedroom, and stares out the window while Severus disappears into his bathroom and comes out wearing pyjamas and his bathrobe.

“So what did you mean?” Harry asks when they’re sitting in the windowsill, looking out over the street.

“If you don’t keep adjusting where you want to go, you’ll end up stuck,” Severus says, as if it should be obvious. “I’d be a Death Eater in Azkaban, and you’d be married to Ginevra Weasley.”

“How does that make what I said stupid? Am I not supposed to also be happy with what I have?”

“Sure, be happy.” Severus shrugs, as if being happy is entirely secondary. It is at that, probably, if the alternative is Death Eater. “You said you could die happy if nothing changed, and that is spectacularly stupid.”

“Why?”

“Because you have so much left to do, professionally, with the Weasleys, with Teddy. You could be anything, do anything. Travel the world, get married.”

“I don’t think that I’ll be getting married,” Harry smiles, “but I appreciate the point.”

“You what?” Severus says, and he sounds so thrown off, so appalled, that Harry has to laugh.

“Don’t worry,” he takes Severus’ hand to show him he’s not being made fun of, “I doubt it’s contagious.”

“How – what?” Severus tries again. “Where is your ambition?”

“I don’t need ambition,” Harry finds himself frowning again, it feels like they’re gearing up for a fight without having anything to really fight about. “This, what I have, it’s enough.”

Severus sounds exasperated: “how could you say that?”

“Is this not enough for you?” Harry finds himself asking, terrified of what the answer might be and just drunk enough on wine and a wonderful evening that he can’t stop himself.

“No!” Severus stands up and paces the room up and down, like he’s about to hex someone for spoiling a potion. “Of course it isn’t. Teddy is worth it, but eventually I want spousal love, and devotion. Passion. Hunger. I want to be wanted, and to be able to be in a relationship that is mutually fulfilling. I want true, fairy tale romance. I want something that’s mine, dammit.” He takes a deep breath. “Joy. Spectacular sex.”

“I want that too,” Harry admits, quiet and overcome by Severus’ emotion.

“Then take it!” Severus bellows. “What is stopping you?”

“You,” Harry blinks and suddenly there’s tears. The whole world is hazy. Severus stumbles away from him and that’s not what Harry wants at all. “I want it with you.”

“Stupid child,” Severus mumbles, and before he knows it Harry is sobbing, clenching his fists so tight he knows he’ll be bleeding. “What are you doing to yourself?”

Harry isn’t sure what they’re talking about, and forces himself to open his fists anyway. Immediately Severus is standing in front of him, running a finger along his marks, healing them without drawing his wand. Steps away again when he’s done.

“I mean it,” Harry cries, “I love you.”

Severus’ fingers on his cheek startle Harry so badly that he gets the hiccoughs, but he blinks away his tears between gasping for air and Severus looks at him with an expression he’s never seen before. Something in him feels new. “I said joy,” he whispers, and Harry laughs a wet snotty giggle. “I can’t have it because I’m not ready.”

“At all?”

“Not for all of it,” Severus corrects, and Harry leans into his palm. “I love you,” he says, and it sounds breathless. Harry stands up, slowly, like he would around a wounded animal, and he wraps his arms tight around Severus’ waist, leans his head against Severus’ sternum. Something in him changes when Severus hugs him back. “I can’t do this to you,” Severus whispers, “you deserve more.”

“Thought we just talked about this,” Harry whispers, and Severus opens his mouth.

“You can’t – I’m – ”

“Picking a fight at three in the morning?” Harry walks them both to the bed, without letting go. “Not following your own advice about taking what you want?”

Harry kicks off his shoes and jeans and lies down under the covers with Severus. “Is there anything that can’t wait ‘till morning?” Harry asks, and entirely unexpectedly, Severus cups his chin, and kisses his lips. Quick enough that there’s no time to kiss back. He blushes and ducks, defensiveness in the line of his shoulders, so Harry leans in to kiss him too. He means it.


	15. São Miguel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“You can’t – I’m – ”
> 
> “Picking a fight at three in the morning?” Harry walks them both to the bed, without letting go. “Not following your own advice about taking what you want?”
> 
> Harry kicks off his shoes and jeans and lies down under the covers with Severus. “Is there anything that can’t wait ‘till morning?” Harry asks, and entirely unexpectedly, Severus cups his chin, and kisses his lips. Quick enough that there’s no time to kiss back. He blushes and ducks, defensiveness in the line of his shoulders, so Harry leans in to kiss him too. He means it."

They wake up the next morning exactly as they should – from Teddy sneaking in. “Can I tell him?” Harry mumbles, quick, before Teddy joins them in the bed. Severus looks sleepy and confused, then nods.

“Teddy,” Harry starts, when Teddy has been made comfortable between them, covered by some of Severus unnecessarily large pile of duvets. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”

“Alright,” Teddy blinks up at him, bright blue eyes for once, “if it’s about why I’m not at The Burrow, I asked Grandma Molly if I could come home and she helped me with the Floo and then Albert said you were here.”

“Did you have a good time?” Severus croaks, his voice rough from the morning.

“Yeah,” Teddy promises, soft and warm. “Uncle Charlie said we can visit him whenever we like!”

“We can talk about what we want to do this summer,” Harry tells him, one eye on Severus, “but we have far more fun things to do than time, I’m afraid.”

“Alright,” Teddy grins, eyes sparkling. “So long as we can see Stella too!”

Severus rolls his eyes where Teddy can’t see and Harry feels so overwhelmed with love he pauses for a quick kiss to first Teddy’s forehead, then Severus’ cheek.

“Teddy,” Severus starts, “do you know what it means to be in love?”

“Duh,” Teddy laughs, “it’s when you want to kiss someone you like.”

“I’m in love with Harry,” Severus continues, and Harry bites his cheek as his eyes prickle. “I like him. I’d like to kiss him.”

“Oh,” Teddy sighs. “Like normal parents, a bit?”

Snape smiles at that, bright and happy. His hair is wild from sleep, his cheeks are pink, and his eyes flick between Harry and Teddy as he grins even wider. “I doubt we’ll ever be quite normal, love.”

“What do you think of that?” Harry asks, just to be sure.

“Well,” Teddy says. “Which room do you think you’ll sleep in?”

 ____________________________________________

 

Harry wakes up slowly. He becomes aware first of the fresh smell drifting in through the open windows, rain and ocean. _That’s right,_ he thinks, _we’re on holiday_. He then notices Severus, warm and fast asleep in his arms, and presses a kiss to the back of his head. Severus makes a little smacking noise like he’d kiss Harry back if he weren’t so heavy, and Harry moves in closer. He drifts off again thinking of how they should walk the beach today, explore the island a bit.

When he wakes up again, there’s a distinct lack of Severus in his arms, but he smells shampoo and pancakes. “Breakfast?” He asks, half-asleep.

“Indeed,” Severus turns around with a tray stacked tall. He sets it between them and they eat together, while Severus tries not to drip on the food with his wet hair, and they chat about things they’d like to do. Just when Severus leans over to set the tray down on the floor next to the bed, it starts raining again, a rustling _whoosh_ and the heavy smell of wet earth.

“Oh no,” Harry complains, and he pulls Severus back into bed. “Now we’ll have to go back to bed!”

Severus laughs and comes along easily, settling under Harry when Harry kisses him all over. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?” He hums, cupping Harry’s head with long strong fingers. Harry can think of something, but he knows not to push. Instead he pulls the sheets over both of them, and enjoys Severus’ fingers dancing over his skin as they take off his shirt, then his pants. Severus is still wearing long joggers and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and Harry gives him space to decide what he wants to do. He kisses Severus and when Severus starts to move, he kisses him some more in between helping him out of his joggers and pants, and then his shirt. The feeling of skin against skin is like heaven and ecstasy, but Severus’ kissing slows down.

“Alright?” Whispers Harry, and Severus shakes no.

“Can’t feel my feet,” he whispers back. “Fuzzy, a bit.”

Harry stills but doesn’t move away, sometimes the weight helps. “What would you like?”

“To be on top,” Severus decides, after thinking it over. Harry rolls them over and makes sure the duvet is covering Severus’ back. Holds Severus close while Severus just breathes into his shoulder. Harry keeps one hand wrapped around Severus’ shoulders, the other trails up and down his back.

“Should I shower?” Harry whispers. It’s not that he’s not comfortable, lying here naked and warm while the rain rustles outside. “Are you alright?”

“Shh,” Severus hisses, but there’s a smile in his voice. “I’m fine, just needed a minute.”

“Good,” Harry promises, and he moves on to scratching Severus’ scalp. Severus groans into his neck, then kisses his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and Harry shakes his head.

“Don’t be,” he keeps petting Severus and feels himself get hard again, against Severus’ thigh. “I love this.”

“I’ll never get used to you,” Severus tells him, in between warm wet kisses. It’s quite a thing to say, so Harry grins from ear to ear and kisses him back.

“I love you,” he says, and Severus twitches his hips, proper hard again. “What do you want?”

Severus kisses Harry deeper, hungry and eager, and shifts until their cocks are touching. He pushes in and they slide against each other. “That.”

“That’s good,” Harry says, summoning the lube over his shoulder and slicking them both up. Severus moves so he’s sitting on Harry’s thighs, their cocks lined up, and he watches them both move with an expression of rapture on his face. The duvet only covers Harry’s legs now, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just moves his hips and watches what it does to Harry, how his stomach moves. Steals glances at Harry’s face from around a swinging curtain of hair.

“Yeah?” He asks, nerves in his voice, and Harry pets his thighs. Warm skin, soft hair.

“Very,” he promises, right when Severus moves and it feels so good he can’t keep his hips still. He groans and whines, and when he opens his eyes he looks right into Severus’ eyes. “I love you,” he babbles, “you’re gorgeous.”

“What do you want?” Severus asks, not stopping his movements. The sliding is good enough to drive Harry mad and not quite enough to come.

“You,” he says, drawing Severus down for a kiss. Grabbing his arse. “Want to come with you.”

Severus doubles his efforts, and Harry makes a fist with both of his hands for them to slide through. They kiss as Severus fucks into the tight space, and come almost at the same time, teeth and lips bumping.

“Sheets,” Severus whispers, and Harry wraps them both up again. There’s come drying between them. Everything is as it should be.

 

They have a slow day. Picking through a stretch of damp forest for some plant Harry’s never heard of before. The weather is warm enough that the rain doesn't last, and everything dries fast. When they’re sitting on the beach near their rented house, having a drink of fresh juice from the friendly vendor up the road, Harry hears a noise. When he turns to point it out to Severus, Severus is already sitting up in attention.

“That didn’t sound good,” Harry says. And he’s not asking for permission, not really.

“You are staying right here,” Severus threatens. Deep black eyes pinning him in place. “You have a child. And a goddaughter!”

Harry smiles at him, “you’re enough reason for me not to run into danger, no need to bring the kids into this.”

“Fine,” Severus bites back, but his cheeks are pink, more than they should be from a bit of sun. They hear another noise, full of pain and misery, and respond to it as one, unable to help themselves. “Oh, alright then,” Severus grumbles when Harry looks at him.

They both walk towards the sound, and Harry knows Severus has shifted his ears too when he feels his tail flick past his bare ankles. He shivers, despite the heat from the sun. “Definitely this way.”

Not far away from the house is a run-down shed, probably a part of someone’s property before it went lonely and unloved for a couple of decades. They hear something cracking inside.

Around the piece of land the shed stands on is a fence, and Harry is about to climb it when Severus stops him. “We can’t trespass.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, genuinely surprised. “The sound is in there.”

“It’s not our property, we need to call the... police or something.”

“No,” Harry tries to stay calm but something inside that shed is hurting, “we need to go to it, fuck whoever this land belonged to at some point, clearly they don’t love it very much.”

“It’s not ours,” Severus frowns, and they hear the wailing sound again.

“Severus,” Harry says, his stomach hurting, “we have the opportunity and ability to help.”

“I know but – ”

“Please, let me do something,” Harry says, and Severus must hear something in his voice, because he looks around, seems to see Harry’s point, and nods.

“Wands out,” he whispers, and he takes the lead. Harry follows close behind him, and Severus casts some spells Harry has never heard off that apparently stabilize the building. “Remind me to take those off when we leave,” he whispers, as he sneaks through the garden in broad daylight. It all seems a bit much. They hear more noises coming from the shed, and then Harry hears Severus gasp.

“What?”

“Oh honey,” Severus says, and he dives right into the shed, through the hole where there must have once been a door, only to come out seconds later with something pissed off and hissing in his arms. He stands in the crooked door opening, the shade of the shed and the light coming in through the barely-there roof lighting him up from behind like he’s the messiah. Harry regrets for a second that they’re wearing Muggle clothes, this would be an even more impressive sight with robes, and then focuses on what Severus is holding. Pissed off, hissing, wet, and soaking with blood.

“It’s a cat,” Severus says, powerless to do anything but try and keep it still. “Something must’ve gotten it, but it fought itself free.”

“Buzzard maybe,” Harry runs his hands through the fur to find where the blood is coming from. “Does Episkey work on cats?”

“You used it on a wolf not a week ago,” Severus teases, and Harry beams up at him at the memory. Andromeda’s garden, all the Malfoys standing awkwardly in the shade. _Their complexion_ , Hermione had whispered, and Harry had laughed so hard he’d almost cracked a rib. Until Teddy decided to climb a tree as a wolf.

“Episkey,” he says, keeping his wand movement as neat as possible, keeping the power light. The cat yelps and squirms, then stills, and Severus holds it close.

“It’ll need a bath,” Harry says, looking at his bloody hands, and Severus’ bloody robes. They all need baths.

They have a minor argument that night, about whether it is ethical to bring a cat over to England without going through the proper Muggle channels, until Harry points out that the Ministry for Magic doesn’t care about cats, and the Muggles don’t even know they’re on the island. “Do you even have a passport?” Does the trick in the end. Hanz gets a calico sister. Teddy calls her Freya, and they all decide it’s very appropriate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks!  
> Anything you're missing? Anything you'd like to know?  
> Thank you to everyone that's been reading and commenting, it means the world.
> 
> As always, thank you Lilian, I couldn't do this without you at all.


End file.
